There for You
by Lucy Hale
Summary: Post OotP. Slash. UPDATED, finally! Ron is finally safe again, but misunderstandings and doubts strain what should be a happy reunion.
1. Summer

The big house felt empty. Empty and dirty and unfamiliar, even after spending all of last summer there.  
  
Problem was, Fred and George weren't there much anymore. They spent days at their new shop, and spent nights at the Burrow, experimenting in the garage and then sleeping in their old rooms.  
  
Which was good in a way - the Burrow hadn't stopped being their home, just because they were staying at the Black House now. But their mum still worried about the twins staying there.  
  
They had made the decision last summer to stay at the Black House because with the Order coming back together, mum would have been spending most of her time at the house while dad was at word. And they didn't want to leave their children alone. It was too dangerous in times like those, especially given the grudge You Know Who could have against their family for their support of Muggles and Muggle-borns.  
  
So there they were for the second summer in a row. Wasting their days trapped inside the Black House, helping clean and get rid of the few remaining curses. And being left out of everything else.  
  
It was better the summer before, when Fred and George were there with their Extendable Ears. Now, though, it was just Ron and Ginny most of the time. And Ginny was great, of course, but she didn't come with Extendable Ears.  
  
Ron had to admit it - he was bored off his rocker. Funny considering that he was living in the center of the anti-You-Know-Who movement.  
  
Well. Hermione would probably show up soon. It would be too dangerous to leave her with her Muggle family for long. She was a prime candidate for attack, and Muggles just couldn't protect her.  
  
And Harry would be there as soon as they got the all-clear from Dumbledore. Which would be sooner than last year, Ron knew, given how Harry had kicked and screamed about being left in the dark.  
  
So. Soon he would have his best friends there with him to waste the rest of the summer.  
  
Ron wondered why the idea didn't bring him quite as much happiness as it should have.  
  
Oh, he was probably just feeling sulky. Days and nights spent wandering the dirty halls, listening to the ear-splitting shrieks of old Mrs. Black on the wall in the front parlor. It would be enough to do in anyone's good mood.  
  
Boring, though. Boring, boring, boring. You Know Who was apparently lying low again, nursing wounds from the Department of Mysteries fight. It was quiet and tense and boring.  
  
Which was why he was so glad when they got an unexpected new resident, even if it was only Neville.  
  
He showed up in the kitchen one afternoon as Ron and Ginny sat having lunch and moaning about boredom. Their mother ushered him in, tatting all the way and calling him 'poor dear'.  
  
Ron looked at Neville in surprise. "Neville."  
  
Neville saw them and smiled. "Hi." He looked wan. His skin was pale and his round features sagged a bit.  
  
"What's going on?" Ginny asked, smiling at him in greeting. "Are you staying here?"  
  
Their mother shot them a look. "Now don't go haranguing the poor dear with questions, all right? Never you mind why he's here. He'll be staying this summer and you're to make him feel welcome."  
  
Ron looked at her reproachfully. "Mum. Neville's our friend. You don't have to order us to be nice."  
  
She shot him an unapologetic look. "I was your age once, you know. I've seen five boys through your age. You're meanest to your friends, Ronald, and don't deny it. Just sit there and be nice and let Neville here get a few bites of lunch into him before you start pestering him, all right?"  
  
"Yes, mum," Ron said hastily, if only to get her off his back. He loved his mum, honestly, but she harped. A lot. And now all her motherly attentions only had two children to focus on, so she was even worse.  
  
She sat Neville down at the table across from Ron and pushed the platter of sandwiches towards him. "Here you are, dear. I'll get your things taken upstairs. Let me know when you're done here and I'll show you where you'll be sleeping."  
  
"Thanks, Mrs. Weasley." Neville smiled at her wanly.  
  
She sniffed a bit, patting him on the shoulder. "Poor dear." And left them alone, finally.  
  
Ron and Ginny stared at Neville.  
  
He sighed and reached for a sandwich. "We got attacked. Gran and I."  
  
Ginny gasped.  
  
Ron gaped. "What happened?"  
  
Neville's eyes stayed on his sandwich. He was still a bit shy, despite the growing he'd done last year. He was a much better wizard now, really, and much closer to them all after fighting Death Eaters with them. But he still didn't meet their eyes. "We were just leaving St Mungo's." His round cheeks went red. "We were visiting.you know."  
  
Ron nodded, feeling sympathy for him. Finding out the truth about Neville's family had shocked them all, and Ron had since felt bad for ever having dismissed Neville as just a klutzy kid with hardly any real magic in him.  
  
He had proven that he wasn't even that, anyway. Maybe a bit klutsy still, but he definitely had as much magical abilities as any of the rest of them.  
  
Ginny reached over to Neville and put a small hand on his shoulder. "You were visiting your parents," she finished gently.  
  
Neville nodded. "We go there a lot over holiday. Anyway. We were leaving, going down the street, and out of nowhere."  
  
"What?" Ron demanded, leaning forward.  
  
Neville shrugged. "It's hard to say, actually. All I really saw was a flash, and then Gran shoved me down and started screaming bloody murder, and I saw someone go running off down the road. The Aururs said later that it had been a crucio." His voice went softer. "It barely missed me."  
  
Ginny drew her hand back in shock. "Who would.?"  
  
"Death Eaters," Ron answered grimly.  
  
Neville nodded, and his face hardened a bit as he looked up at Ron finally. "Bellatrix LeStrange got away. At the Department of Mysteries? You Know Who took her when he left."  
  
Ron thought back. The name sounded a bit familiar. "She was one of the ones who escaped Azkaban, right?"  
  
Neville nodded. His eyes were dark. "She was in there for what she did to my parents."  
  
Ginny squeaked in dismay.  
  
Ron's eyes went wide. He met Neville's now-hard gaze and swallowed. "Oh."  
  
"She wanted to kill me. Last year? And now I think she's trying again."  
  
"Oh." Ginny's voice was small.  
  
Neville sighed suddenly, the coolness melting away from his face. "Gran thinks so too. She asked Dumbledore if there was somewhere I would be safe. He said I should stay here. So here I am."  
  
"Wow." Ron let out a breath. "That's awful."  
  
Neville took a bite of his sandwich and chewed slowly, not answering.  
  
Ron glanced at Ginny.  
  
She looked back, upset. She nodded to Neville and then to him, her eyes meaningful.  
  
Ron nodded back, rolling his eyes. Of course he'd talk to Neville some more. Neville was his friend, and had been his dorm mate at Hogwarts for five years now.  
  
She stood up. "Well, Neville. I'm glad you're here, anyway. You can help us finish getting this house under control. Hermione should be coming soon, too, you know. We can have D.A. lessons, maybe."  
  
"Can't do magic," Ron reminded her.  
  
"Well, we wouldn't try spells without Harry here to help, anyway. But Hermione can take us through the book stuff. We're all probably going to need it next year." She sighed and left the table. "I'm gonna go help mum."  
  
Ron watched her go, then faced Neville again.  
  
Neville looked at him, then sighed and finished off his sandwich in silence.  
  
***  
  
"Right. Neville, you'll be staying in here. Now, Ron is right across the hall here, so you feel free to go to him if you need anything at all."  
  
"Mum."  
  
Ron's mother looked back at him from the doorway to the room Neville had been given. Her face was set. "Yes, Ron? Do you object somehow?"  
  
Ron saw over her shoulder as Neville turned to them from inside the room, his eyes apprehensive.  
  
Ron nodded. "Yes, I do."  
  
"Ron-"  
  
He cut her off before she could really get started. "I've got a whole other bed in my room, and I'm bored out of my mind with everyone gone. Couldn't he stay with me?"  
  
Her face softened immediately. "We just thought that Harry would stay there when he arrived."  
  
"But we don't know when he's coming. Besides, maybe he'll prefer to stay alone." Ron couldn't stop a bit of bitterness from coming out in his voice, but maybe she wouldn't notice.  
  
Sure enough, she just smiled. Her eyes were fond. "Well, I think it's a great idea. Neville? Would you like to share a room with Ron?"  
  
Neville looked at Ron for a moment.  
  
Ron nodded with a smile. "Come on, Neville. Spare me boredom."  
  
Neville grinned at that. "Sure."  
  
Ron's mother twittered. "Wonderful! You boys can move these bags in there, can't you? I'll go see about getting a bit of supper started." She reached out suddenly and hugged Ron. It was a bit awkward, Ron being almost a foot taller than her those days. "My little boy," she said affectionately from somewhere around his elbow.  
  
Ron grinned and pushed her back gently. "Geroff, mom! Have to embarrass me in front of my friends."  
  
She tutted with a smile and started off down the hall.  
  
Ron felt pink all over his face as he sighed and went into the room Neville's bags had been put into. "She's going to fall in love with you. You know that, right?"  
  
Neville flushed just as pink as Ron probably was. "What?"  
  
"My mum. She's suddenly without most of her children around, so she's going to be horrible to you. You'll probably get treated as good as Harry."  
  
Neville grabbed a bag and one side of his trunk. He didn't answer. "Help me with this?"  
  
Ron grabbed the other side and the small case left on the floor, and they made their way across the hall.  
  
***  
  
"Are all mothers like her?"  
  
Ron rolled on his side, squinting at the other bed through the darkness. "What?"  
  
There was movement as Neville turned. "Your mum."  
  
"Oh. Well." Ron thought about it. "I don't think so. It's hard to say. I doubt Malfoy's mum's like her at all."  
  
Neville snorted. "Probably not."  
  
"She was a bit much at dinner, wasn't she?" She had been hovering over Neville constantly, refilling his plate or his glass, making sure everything was perfect. Forcing second and third helpings on him.  
  
"No." Neville spoke quietly. "Just odd."  
  
Ron stayed quiet, wondering about Neville's family. His Gran had seemed nice enough at the hospital, if a little prim and proper. But from how Neville talked about her through the years she was strict and a bit cold. Nothing like Ron's mum, that was for sure.  
  
Neville spoke again softly. "I don't remember what my mother was like. I was too young."  
  
Ron frowned, remembering the vacant stare of Neville's mother when she had gone up to him and shyly handed him an empty gum wrapper.  
  
He couldn't imagine his own mother that way. No life in her eyes, moving slow and stiff and being so.not there. And it was all Neville had ever known of her, really. "I think she would have been a bit like mine."  
  
"You do?" Neville's voice was strained.  
  
Ron rolled on his back and sighed. "I guess all she has to give you are wrappers, yeah? But she still gives them to you. She'd give you everything else in the world if she could, I imagine."  
  
Neville sniffled.  
  
Ron pretended not to hear it. Neville had had a long and hard day, and he wouldn't want to be embarrassed with sympathy. He faked a yawn, loudly, and slurred out a 'good night', and rolled on his other side. He listened to Neville sniff in silence.  
  
***  
  
Fred and George were there early the next day, sitting in the kitchen cheerfully talking when Ron staggered in for some breakfast.  
  
"Ronnie! Look, Fred, it's Ronnie!"  
  
"Hey, Ronnie! George, it's Ronnie!"  
  
Ron stopped dead in the doorway and blinked at them.  
  
"Ronnie! Come in! Coffee's still hot."  
  
Ron debated turning around and going back to sleep. He looked around warily, with the knowledge that whatever they had rigged, he wouldn't see it until it was too late.  
  
Coffee sounded good, though. Consciousness didn't really settle in for Ron in the mornings without caffeine.  
  
He moved to the coffee pot, suspicious eyes on his over-enthusiastic brothers.  
  
Fred grinned at him. "Oh, relax. We wouldn't trick you now. It's like cheating to do it in the morning. We know you can't even think clearly before noon."  
  
Ron studied the half-empty pot of coffee, lifting it, sniffing it, twirling the brown liquid around.  
  
George and Fred laughed behind him. "I think our brother doesn't trust us."  
  
"Well, our brother isn't stupid at least."  
  
"Paranoid, though."  
  
"Very paranoid."  
  
"Oh, shut up," Ron grumbled. He saw their two cups of coffee in front of them, watched Fred take a sip from his, and reluctantly decided to trust them. He poured himself a cup and dragged his feet to the table. "What're you two doing here?" He blew on the steam rising from his cup and sipped cautiously.  
  
"Wanted to show dad a few things we've been coming up with. But he took off before we got here."  
  
"Working hard, our old man." George shrugged. "Still, we have one thing that we think might make everyone a bit happier around here."  
  
What's that? Ron asked.  
  
Or would have asked, if any sound had come out when he opened his mouth and formed the words.  
  
His hand went to his throat instantly, and he once again tried to croak the words out.  
  
No sound came.  
  
Fred and George fell over themselves laughing.  
  
Ron glared at them, glared at the coffee in his cup, and angrily stood up. He took his cup to the sink and dumped it out furiously.  
  
"Oh, Ron! Oh, it's brilliant!" Fred had to wipe tears from his eyes. "You never learn!"  
  
George was reduced to high-pitched giggles.  
  
Ron glared at them, then straightened and marched out of the kitchen.  
  
His mother was coming from upstairs, parchment in her hand. A list of chores she wanted done, no doubt. "Good morning, Ron! You saw your brothers?"  
  
Ron stared at her angrily.  
  
She stopped on the last step, frowning. "What's wrong?"  
  
He opened his mouth and no sound came out. He patted his throat.  
  
She had enough experience as their mother to put it together instantly. Her mouth pursed. "Where are they?"  
  
Ron pointed to the kitchen, and followed her angry march with a growing smile.  
  
They wanted to trick him? Fine. He wasn't above putting mum onto them.  
  
He saw over her shoulder as the twins' laughter vanished with horror.  
  
"Mum! Want some coffee?" One quick, desperate, foolish attempt was all Fred had time to make.  
  
Ron stood behind her, arms folded over his chest smugly as she got started.  
  
"-to know WHY you think muting your brother is funny? It isn't enough I have to-"  
  
George stood up fast, cutting her off with the ease of long-time practice. "We just had to test it out one last time, mum! Honestly! Besides, we brought the Quietus potion here for a reason!"  
  
"What reason could you have to bring some silly pranks to this house?"  
  
Ron couldn't see her, but he knew well how dangerous her face must have looked right then.  
  
Freg swallowed and stood by George. "Well. Quietus has been around for a while, yeah? What we've been doing is finding ways to change the potion into.you know. Different forms."  
  
"So it could be slipped into someone's coffee?" She asked, her voice low.  
  
"Right! We've got pills, powders, and this!" George lofted a tiny bottle, like perfume. "We brought this as a present! Watch!" He started for the door.  
  
She didn't move.  
  
George smiled his most winning smile. "Oh, come on, mum. Let us show you!"  
  
She moved reluctantly, letting them pass her and Ron and go into the living room.  
  
George went right to the drapes covering the most horrible painting known to Ron, and pushed the drapes aside with a grin.  
  
Ron covered his ears a moment before the form in the painting, the mother of Sirius Black, started screaming.  
  
"Traitors! Half-bloods! Vermin in my house!"  
  
"George!" Their mother shouted to be heard over the painting. "What are you.?"  
  
George held up a hand with a grin and faced the painting. He lofted the bottle and spritzed the painting with the potion inside.  
  
And abruptly the shrieking stopped. Mrs. Black's mouth kept moving, but no sound emerged.  
  
George and Fred beamed at their mother. "It works on paintings! See?"  
  
Their mother lit up happily. "Oh, boys! That's wonderful! We've been desperate for a way to shut that woman up for months now!" She took the bottle they offered. "How long does it last?"  
  
"About twenty-four hours. You'll have to make it a regular chore and all, but we figured you wouldn't mind."  
  
She studied the bottle, then smiled at them. "Thank you, Fred. George. Now, how about." But she trailed off, and her brow knit dangerously. "You've muted your brother for twenty four hours?"  
  
"No! No! We didn't use a strong dose on him! He should be yakking again in less than ten hours!"  
  
Ron watched with satisfaction as his mother recovered her anger and began blasting away at the twins.  
  
He went up the stairs, feeling that all in all it hadn't been a waste of a morning.  
  
Neville was putting on clothes frantically when Ron came in. "Ron! What in the world was that? Who was doing that horrible screaming?"  
  
Ron opened his mouth, then grimaced. He went to the table between their beds and grabbed a parchment and quill quickly.  
  
Can't talk. Twins cursed me. The screams were a painting. Nothing to worry about.  
  
Neville took the parchment with a frown, read it, then looked at Ron with a growing grin. "You can't talk?"  
  
Ron shook his head sullenly.  
  
Neville was holding back laughter. "For how long?"  
  
Ron held up all ten fingers.  
  
"Until ten?"  
  
He shook his head and held them up again.  
  
"Ten hours?"  
  
He nodded.  
  
Neville cracked up.  
  
Ron sat on his bed despondently, but smiled despite himself as he watched Neville laughing.  
  
Neville didn't laugh often.  
  
It was kind of cute.  
  
*** 


	2. Nightmares

Ron had always felt sort of awkward with his body. It grew faster than any body should. Grew up, that is. Not out. Just up. He got taller and no broader until he was this skinny sort of pole that loomed over everyone. 

That wasn't right, not for a sixteen year old kid. 

He had sort of big hands and long fingers, and big feet that his mum hated because she had to buy him shoes instead of him getting whatever the twins had outgrown. 

He felt strange inside his skin. Taller than almost everyone, including the teachers, at Hogwarts, but skinny and weird. That, plus his bright red hair and horrid freckles dotting him everywhere, meant people noticed him. Which made him feel even more awkward.

Like walking down the halls at school during Quidditch season. When everyone knew what a joke he was, how horrid he was. When everyone was singing that song Malfoy had come up with. They could spot him coming and know right away who he was. 

He hated it. He had no control over his body. It kept shooting upwards despite his desires. And his arms tended to wave around when he talked.

So being made temporarily mute bordered on horrible. 

Everyone seemed to find it funny. The twins, of course, but they at least had to shut up about it when mum was around. The aurors that drifted in and out of the house found him to be comic relief. Tonks nearly tripped over herself going to the twins to order some of the potion.

Ginny laughed at his gangly-limbed game of charades as he tried to tell her what had happened to him without using words. He turned red and stopped moving. Let Neville tell her what happened.

Neville was the only one who was decent about it. After he got over his first bout of laughter, he looked at Ron in sympathy and spoke for him to the others. 

In fact, Neville was surprisingly good at reading Ron's gestures and figuring out what he was trying to say. 

The day stretched on, and Ron looked to the clock more and more. If he didn't get his voice back soon he was going to scream.

Well. Figuratively. 

The twins were smart enough to make their exits from the house safely short of the ten-hour deadline, wishing Ron well with matching grins.

After a dinner spent listening to conversations go on without him, Ron went right up to his room to sulk. 

Such a small, stupid prank to bother him so much. 

Neville came up soon after him, knocking on the door before sticking his head in. "Mind a bit of company?"

Ron shook his head with a sigh. He sat at the small desk, fiddling with a quill. It would be a good time to write Harry, since he couldn't communicate any other way. 

Neville sat down on his bed and regarded Ron for a moment, then grinned. "I should visit that shop sometime. I'll bet it's brilliant."

Ron made a face. 

"You should go too, maybe. At least to look over all the things they might be springing on you next."

Ron shook his head. Wouldn't do any good. Most of what they got him with lately were experiments that weren't on the shelves yet. 

Neville looked to him in sympathy, then leaned over to study the small cactus he had sat by his bed. He studied it closely, prodded at its soil, and then seemed satisfied. "I was worried about this little guy. Thought he might not like traveling all packaged up."

Ron raised his eyebrows. 

"He seems fine." Neville smiled at the plant fondly. "Soon he'll be mature enough for me to start lancing these boils and collecting the pus. Then the fun starts."

Ron made a face.

Neville grinned. "Well. Fun for me, anyway."

_Hey, how was your summer so far? _Ron scribbled onto the parchment in front of him. He stretched it out to Neville.

Neville took it and read it, then looked at Ron with bemusement.

Ron took it back, blushing, and wrote quickly.

_I mean before you nearly got killed._

Neville laughed as he read it. "Pretty good, actually. Gran heard all about what happened at the Ministry, of course. More than what the _Prophet printed. She knows a lot of people over there. She was really proud of me." His face shone with pride. "Said I finally did the family right."_

Ron nodded enthusiastically. Neville without a doubt had improved his magic a hundred times over that year. He had worked harder than anyone to learn, and it showed. 

But Neville's grin faded. "She didn't know that the Death Eater that escaped was…Lestrange."

Ron tilted his head to the side, frowning a bit.

Neville sighed. "She didn't know until I told her that...Lestrange did the curse on me."

Ron leaned in, storms gathering in his mind.

Neville looked down. "The _crucio__. Just once, you know, so no…no harm done. But when Gran found out, she really got upset. More upset than I've ever seen her. And when she found out that Lestrange is still out there…" He looked up again. "I don't know. She was already looking at places to send me to keep me safe. It was that attack outside St. Mungo's that made her go to Dumbledore. I think she was pretty scared."_

Ron could tell form Neville's face that his Gran must not get scared often. He nodded to Neville with eyebrows raised.

"Me?" Neville laughed quietly. "I was terrified."

Ron nodded in understanding. 

"But this place is nice. I was worried I'd end up in some Ministry place with no one I knew. I'm glad you're here." He blushed a bit. "And Ginny, you know? And you say Harry and Hermione will be here soon."

Ron grabbed his parchment back and scribbled messily. 

_Glad you're here too._

Neville smiled at him, looking as shy as he had first year at Hogwarts. 

Ron's throat suddenly seemed to vibrate a bit. A strange tightness in his neck seemed to loosen.

The spell was gone, he figured out. Ten hours on the nose. 

Still, he didn't try and talk yet. He looked at Neville silently, thinking it strange how little he really knew about him. Finding out about his parents was huge. Ron had thought of Neville as a friend, but how could he never notice that Neville didn't speak of his parents? How could he not ask even once?

Maybe because the other students in their year were eager to tell their own stories. Harry everyone knew already. Hermione and Dean shared stories of their Muggle parents' reactions to the Hogwart's letter. Seamus talked at length (and pretty amusingly) about his mismatched Muggle father and Witch mother. 

Neville had never offered his story, so no one had ever asked. 

That was sort of too bad. It meant Neville had gone through five years at Hogwarts unable to talk to anyone about it. 

It meant, too, that for a clumsy and forgetful boy, absent-minded as Neville seemed to be, he was fierce when it came to keeping secrets. 

No, Ron really knew nothing about Neville. So he was glad Neville was there, for more than one reason. 

Neville cleared his throat and went into motion suddenly, standing and going to the drawers where his clothes were tucked away. "I think I'll get a bit of sleep. I'm not used to doing so many chores; I'm sort of sleepy. Anyway, when you wake up tomorrow you'll have your voice back. That's something, isn't it?" He smiled back at Ron.

Ron hesitated, but just smiled back and nodded his agreement. He wondered if Neville would talk so much if he knew Ron could talk back. 

Ron went to his drawer and grabbed his pajamas. He changed quickly and with just a bit of self-consciousness – he was used to changing clothes in front of his schoolmates, but now he was about ten feet taller and all skin and bones, so he wasn't exactly casual about it. 

Awkward. He felt awkward again, and he hated it. 

Fortunately, he was with someone who understood. Neville was always awkward about himself. He was normal height, but he had more weight on him than most of the other kids. He wasn't fat or anything. Not like Harry's stories of his cousin, anyway. But he didn't have the leanness of kids used to playing sports and running around all day. He was soft of soft and chubby.

He was shy about himself, so he changed into his own pajamas with his back turned, and spared both of them embarrassment. 

They crawled into their beds, and Ron shut the lamp off. 

There was silence for a minute, and then Neville's voice sounded softly in the dark. "Ron?"

Ron turned to him and waited.

But Neville just sighed. "Never mind."

***

Ron was used to waking up to the sounds of nightmares. He had, after all, spent five years sleeping beside Harry at school.

Only this wasn't Harry, so he didn't automatically stand up and go over there and try and shush those distressed sounds.

This was Neville.

It made Ron hesitate, but not for very long. Neville was a friend, and Ron wasn't the type to sit there and watch people suffer. 

He stood up and dragged his feet to Neville's bed. He yawned as he sat, and rested a hand on Neville's arm the same he did with Harry.

Harry's nightmares were easy to handle. Ron sat there for a little while and touched him on his arm or stomach or something and murmured whatever came into his head. Harry would quiet down pretty fast and roll over and go on snoring without a bit of memory of it the next day. 

Neville seemed much the same at first. He stopped whimpering and started murmuring into his pillow, tensing under Ron's hand.

Ron shushed him quietly. His eyes felt heavy and tried to slide shut, but he forced them open. "Hey. Neville. It's okay. You're asleep. Everything's okay." He spoke automatically, using the same sort of things he said to Harry those long nights at school. He blinked through the darkness at Neville's hair on the pillow, lighter than Harry's. "You're okay, Neville. I promise."

Neville jerked under his hand suddenly, and suddenly two bright spots shone reflecting the faint light. "Who's there?" Neville's voice was panicked.

Ron was quick to pull his hand back . "It's me. Ron. Sorry, you were…you know. Bad dream, it sounded like."

Neville sat up slowly. "Yeah. Sorry. I woke you?"

Ron shrugged. "No worries. You okay?"

Neville sat still.

Ron frowned. "Uh. Hey, mind if I turn on…?"

"Go ahead."

Ron reached for the lamp and tapped it, filling the room with light. It took a few moments of squinting against the brightness before Neville's form became clear. 

Neville's eyes were shut against the light. He leaned against the headboard of his bed, his knees folded up to his chest. 

"You okay?" Ron asked again with a sharp frown. 

Neville pried his eyes open slowly and shrugged. "I hate nightmares. I don't get them often, but…"

Ron hesitated. He wasn't sure how to handle this – Harry had only woken up once or twice during the nightmares, and he usually just pushed Ron away and stayed silent. "Um. Can I…do anything?"

Neville seemed surprised. "I don't think so."

Ron smiled at that faintly. As odd as he felt, Neville seemed just as out of sorts. Ron wondered suddenly if that Gran of Neville's was as cold towards Neville as he described. Had anyone ever woken Neville from his nightmares?

The idea that Neville wasn't used to getting comforted made Ron a little less tense about the whole thing. He sat down on the edge of Neville's bed. "Wanna go back to sleep?"

Neville grimaced before he could stop himself. "No. I'll just read or something. I'll be fine if you want to…"

"Don't be stupid. I'll keep you company."

"Yeah?" Neville smiled.

Ron smiled back. "Yeah."


	3. Next Morning

Ron grinned at the sight of Hedwig waiting for him when he opened his eyes the next morning.  
  
He groaned a bit at a twist of muscles in his neck, and rubbed at the spot with a wince. Must have slept oddly or something.  
  
The reason why was apparent a moment later, when he sat up and found he'd slept awkwardly bent at the foot of Neville's bed.  
  
The last thing he remembered was sitting there making small talk about school and O.W.L.S. He and Neville must have crashed hard.  
  
Ron stretched his spine out, cursing (not for the first time) his gangly height. He was too bloody tall to fit on the beds the way he was supposed to. He had to go practically fetal to fit across the short way.  
  
Hedwig hooted quietly and flew down to the bed, white feathers ruffling. A clawed foot with letter attached thrust its way towards his hand.  
  
Ron took the letter with a grin. "Getting impatient lately, Hedwig. You'll be as excitable as Pig soon."  
  
Hedwig hooted loudly in disgust at the mere idea.  
  
Ron laughed quietly and stood with a glance towards Neville, who was still sleeping deeply. "Come on, I'll get you some food."  
  
Hedwig followed, still ruffled over the comparison to Ron's own owl, who was perhaps a bit overeager and not at all as dignified as Hedwig seemed to thing owls should be.  
  
Ron loped down the stairs and towards the kitchen, unfolding the parchment and smiling automatically at the familiar handwriting.  
  
Ron,  
  
Things are still quiet here. My uncle is still ignoring me rather than risk the anger of any of those 'horrible sorts' he met at the train station.  
  
Ron grinned, remembering that. He moved into the kitchen and went for the small canister that held owl treats for Pig and the owls the aurors brought with them. He dug out a handful and set a pile on the table for Hedwig.  
  
Aunt Petunia is a surprise, though. She's almost civil to me lately. Not nice or anything, of course, but she has actually stopped Dudley from picking on me a couple of times.  
  
I know I'm going to be sent for soon to join you and Hermione. It's almost too bad, now that things are almost decent for once here. Besides, I can't say I'm looking forward to being back there.  
  
Ron's smile faded. He looked away from the letter to watch Hedwig pick at her treats, then sighed to himself. He knew Harry would be going through a lot. He just hoped he'd be able to help Harry this time. He hadn't been much help last year. Too much time focused on his own problems.  
  
Which was stupid, really. What was Quidditch compared to life? He should have paid more attention to Harry.  
  
Ron frowned and went back to the letter. He'd just have to do better. Harry counted on him.  
  
I don't have much to say. I haven't gotten my OWLS yet, so I'm still nervous. I guess you haven't got yours either, or you would have said. I hope they come soon.  
  
Anyway, I'll see you soon, probably.  
  
Harry  
  
Ron folded it back up. At least Harry was sounding a bit more cheerful than last time. He would be upset for a long time over Sirius, but he was getting better.  
  
Maybe it really was for the best that he had to stay with Muggles and get away from the magic world for a while. It would give him time on his own to sort out his feelings. Harry liked having a bit of distance when things went bad for him, Ron had noticed. Ron was exactly the opposite, himself, but he was learning to get used to it.  
  
He regarded Hedwig as she finished her owl treats. "Should I send you on your way or does he want a response right off?"  
  
Hedwig looked to the window and hooted quietly.  
  
Ron smiled. Sometimes he thought Harry's owl was alarmingly smart. "Right." He went to the window and opened it. "Off you go. Give him a peck for me, eh?"  
  
Hedwig glided off into the morning sky.  
  
Ron watcher her and thought about Harry's letter.  
  
OWLS. He didn't want to know how he did on his OWLS. He was distracted during every single exam. Words tended to swim around paper on any other normal test; they had been ten times worse for the OWLS. Plus his attention span, even during the practical exams, was horrid.  
  
He probably did worse than the twins. Hopefully he did well enough to stay in school.  
  
He wondered if it would really make a difference if he didn't.  
  
Ron sighed at that. He could almost hear Hermione's voice in his mind, scolding him about low self-esteem or lowered expectations or other concepts he figured he didn't completely understand.  
  
She seemed to think he beat himself up a lot or something. It made her break into lectures now and then about positive thinking. He wasn't sure she was right with all that, though. He didn't dislike himself or anything.  
  
He headed back up the stairs, thinking about it.  
  
He knew he wasn't all that smart. Percy was smart, and he was nothing like Percy. He also knew he wasn't quite as interesting as Bill or Charlie, or as fun as the twins, or as determined and winning as Ginny.  
  
But he was a decent person, really. He had friends. He had done his share of brave things.  
  
And he had made Neville laugh last night, while he was still pale from his nightmare. That had to count for something.  
  
Neville greeted him as he came in to the room. "Morning."  
  
Ron smiled at him, dropping Harry's letter to his bed and forgetting about it for the time being. "I'm glad you got a bit of sleep," he said in reply.  
  
Neville grinned with his usual shy crookedness. "Yeah. Thanks. Good of you to stay with me."  
  
"Anytime," Ron said easily. "I like talking to you." And he realized as he said it that it was true.  
  
Talking with Neville last night had been really easy. Like talking with Harry used to be. Neville was a quiet sort, but he laughed easily when he was relaxed, and he was very honest. He was self-deprecating, but Ron was that as well, so they fit well together.  
  
It was strange to realize that though he had known Neville as long as he had known Harry, he and Neville had never really sat and talked between them.  
  
"Do we have another cleaning list for today?"  
  
Ron sat on his bed and grinned. "Nah. Mum lets us have weekends. Besides, I think we're running out of things to do. They've been working on the house for a year now."  
  
Neville looked around thoughtfully. "This was Sirius Black's house, wasn't it?"  
  
Ron nodded, his grin fading. Sirius made him think of Harry. Thinking of Harry always made him feel bad.  
  
God, he must be a horrible friend, because he was actually relieved that Harry wasn't there yet.  
  
"But Sirius is dead. Won't someone get suspicious about people still using his house?"  
  
"I don't think so. I overheard Mum explaining it to a group of aurors. The house is magic. Unplottable, I guess, and no one found it the years Sirius was in Azkaban. My dad's trying to get some of his friends in the Ministry to fake paperwork and get it turned over to Remus, since Sirius wanted him here. But it's got to be pretty safe if Dumbledore still wants us here."  
  
Neville nodded slowly. "I guess he isn't going to tell a lot of people about it? Even though everyone knows about You Know Who being back now?"  
  
"I dunno. I don't think he'll ever trust the Ministry all the way. Not with Fudge still in charge. Mostly the Order doesn't have to work in secret, but they're still going to keep the names of everyone here quiet, just in case."  
  
Neville looked to him, impressed. "They must tell you a lot."  
  
Ron felt himself flushing a bit. "Not really. I sort of overhear things, I guess. It's sort of a gift. People keep talking when I'm around, even though I shouldn't be hearing it. Except mum. She yells at me to go away."  
  
Neville laughed. "I can't imagine anyone not noticing you were around."  
  
Ron glanced down at himself, his nearly six foot frame topped with bright red tangles of hair. "You'd think, but it's sort of always been that way. Except when I'm with Harry." He shrugged. "It comes in handy."  
  
"Yeah, I know. Except when the only people you want to ignore you make you so nervous you blow things up around them."  
  
Ron laughed at Neville's crooked smile. "You wouldn't be talking about one of our professors, would you?"  
  
Neville shrugged with a sigh. "I don't know why he gets to me so bad. Except all the other teachers sort of don't notice me, just like you described. And he's always there, breathing down my neck."  
  
"Not Sprout," Ron reminded him with a smile. "She thinks you're brilliant."  
  
It was Neville's turn to go pink. "I like Herbology."  
  
"And you're bloody good at it."  
  
Neville looked at him in surprise, then looked down.  
  
"What?"  
  
"I just.didn't think anyone really.you know. Noticed, or anything."  
  
"Sure we do. You're our friend, Neville."  
  
"But there's always so much going on. Especially with Harry."  
  
Ron made a face. "Well. Harry only lets us in on some of it, so we're not as distracted as he is. Anyway, I'm bound to notice anyone who's better at a subject than Hermione is."  
  
Neville flushed red. "I'm not. She gets great grades."  
  
"Yeah, but. Well, one thing I've learned about Hermione. She can remember anything written in a book, but sometimes she's not so good at the practical stuff, you know? Besides, like Sprout says, Herbology is almost like Divination. Either you have the touch or you don't. And you must have it big time, 'cause you do really well. That Purple-Headed Springfig you grew last year? That was brilliant."  
  
Neville lit up. "You liked it? It was just for extra credit, really, but she said it was bigger than most ever get, and it was only six months old."  
  
"And it shot out those spikes into Goyle when he tried to kill it, remember? Turned his entire face purple for three days."  
  
Neville giggled. "I didn't know anyone knew about it. I mean, how it happened."  
  
Ron smiled at him. "I knew."  
  
Neville grinned back, red-faced. 


	4. Mum

The voices were loud enough for Neville to hear as he made his way down the stairs.  
  
He didn't complete his trip into the kitchen, staying respectfully outside of the argument, but he heard every word clearly.  
  
"Come on, mum! Just for an afternoon! It's not like it'll be dangerous in the middle of Diagon Alley!"  
  
Mrs. Weasley's voice was sharp. "Diagon Alley is nothing like it used to be, Ron. People are scared now. Everyone knows You Know Who is back. They don't crowd the alley like they used to. It's as dangerous there as anywhere else."  
  
Neville flinched a bit - that was true, and he more than knew it.  
  
Ron didn't sound convinced. "But mum-"  
  
"I don't want to hear it, Ron."  
  
"Mum, we haven't left the house all summer!"  
  
"It's the middle of June."  
  
"We didn't leave last summer either! We're working our arses off on this house. Don't we get something in return?"  
  
His mum's voice clouded in disapproval. "Ron. You helped with this house because it was the right thing to do. Not to get some reward for it."  
  
Ron threw up his hands, frustrated, but lit up again fast. "What if someone went with us?"  
  
She frowned. "None of the aurors here have time to babysit you."  
  
"What about Bill?"  
  
"Your brother doesn't want to spend a day-"  
  
"Why can't you even ask him?"  
  
"Listen to me, Ronald Weasley."  
  
"No!" His voice rose suddenly, as angry as Neville had ever heard him. "You never let me do anything! I'll bet if Harry was the one asking, you'd come with us yourself!"  
  
She sounded surprised. "What has Harry got to do with-"  
  
"I knew it! I should have let Neville come down and ask! You never want me to do anything!"  
  
"Ron, honestly."  
  
"Honestly!" he fired right back at her. "Fred and George work there every day! You won't even let me go for a visit!"  
  
"Fred and George would do whatever they wanted without my permission."  
  
"Is that what I should be doing, then? Sneaking out without even asking?"  
  
"Ron!"  
  
"Well! It's the only way I get to do anything at all!"  
  
"Don't raise your voice to me, young man."  
  
"I hate this! You're treating me like a child!"  
  
"You're sixteen years old!"  
  
"Harry's younger than me."  
  
"Harry has been through a lot. He's too smart to want to go on fool trips when there are dangerous wizards--"  
  
"Oh, he is not! Anyway, I've been through a lot, too!"  
  
"That right there shows me you're not mature enough to be let out on your own. If you think you've gone through anything like poor Harry has."  
  
Neville winced a bit at that. He understood Ron's reaction to that before Ron even said anything. He knew full well that Ron and Hermione had been there through most of Harry's problems, and had helped right along with him. Neville sat in hospital with Ron when he had a broken leg, and when he had a dragon bite on his hand.  
  
Ron had gone through a bad time last year as well, but there was so much going on that Neville doubted anyone had really noticed. He himself had. It was a benefit to being quiet and ignored; a person learned a lot, and saw a lot.  
  
Even he hadn't said anything to Ron, though. He was too worried about his tests, about Umbridge. About the Death Eaters' escape from Azkaban. That woman being free.  
  
Neville came to a surprising realization then. Ron had seemed to him the last few years to be so lucky. He had his big family and Harry and Hermione and so many exciting things happened to him.  
  
But maybe it was like Ron said - maybe he was actually overlooked most of the time. Maybe his family was too big, and his friends were too important, too busy with those exciting things.  
  
Maybe Ron really felt alone, like Neville felt a lot of the time.  
  
He frowned to himself. That was awful. He didn't like feeling so outside of everyone. Despite LeStrange and Umbridge, this last year at school had been better than the rest, because he came out of it feeling like he was actually a part of the group. He actually fit in better. The others from the D.A. meetings would say hi to him in the corridors or in class. He was getting better in his spells. Harry had actually been impressed enough to say something to him.  
  
And Ginny Weasley had looked at him somewhat appraisingly once or twice.  
  
The memory of that still made him blush. He was sure Ginny wasn't really interested - she was dating Dean now, and she would always want Harry, probably. But the idea that someone could look at him like he was interesting enough to consider.  
  
It was new. And strange.  
  
Neville wasn't stupid - he knew his Gran was worried about more than his magical abilities. She worried about those most, of course, but she also tended to make comments about how he never got owls from friends during summer, and he never seemed interested in girls, he was too chubby for a boy his age.  
  
Things like that.  
  
Neville's thoughts were drawn away from his Gran when Ron's voice rang out suddenly louder.  
  
"Maybe I'll start acting as stupid as you seem to think I am! See if you like me better then!"  
  
The door from the kitchen burst open, and Ron came out. His face was as red as his hair, and got even redder when he saw Neville there.  
  
Neville's face grew warm, embarrassed.  
  
Ron blinked at him, then looked down at the floor. He came towards Neville, moving past him slowly and going up the stairs.  
  
Neville hesitated, looking after him.  
  
If it were Neville, he'd probably want a bit of space.  
  
So Neville kept moving to the kitchen. He peeked in the door to the kitchen, and watched the back of Mrs. Weasley as she stirred needlessly at a pot on the fire that was more than capable of stirring itself.  
  
He came in, treading heavier than normal to alert her to his presence. He hoped his voice were light when he spoke. "Are you cooking, Mrs. Weasley?"  
  
She spun around, her cheeks red. "Neville! Dear, what are.yes. We're having a meeting today, so you'll be left alone for a bit. Ron explained to you about the meetings, didn't he?"  
  
Neville nodded, pretending not to notice her smile droop at Ron's name. "We're not supposed to go snooping, that's all he said."  
  
"I wish he'd learn that for himself." She turned back to the pot, but dropped her hand and let the wooden spoon stir for itself. She sighed, her shoulders slumped, then turned back to Neville with determination in her eyes.  
  
Neville could guess what was coming. "I heard you fighting," he confessed quietly, flushing despite himself.  
  
She nodded. "I suppose most everyone in the house did." She came to the table where Neville stood. "You're friends with my son. Is he this much trouble at school?"  
  
Neville hesitated. He really didn't want to get involved between Ron and his mother, but he couldn't just not answer her. "He." He fought for an answer. "He gets in trouble. He and Harry. But it isn't their fault most of the time."  
  
"I don't mean that. I know what he and poor Harry have to do to make people see what's happening outside that school. I mean.does he give his teachers trouble?"  
  
He gave a mental shrug and answered honestly. "No. Not really. Between Hermione being the best student in school, and Harry being who he is, mostly the teachers don't notice Ron much."  
  
She frowned at him sharply. "What do you mean?"  
  
Neville hesitated again, not knowing exactly how much he could say without betraying Ron. "Well. This year there was.I mean, all the stuff that Harry went through, and all the stuff with that new woman trying to get Dumbledore thrown out and everything." He shrugged. "Whatever went on with the rest of us sort of got ignored."  
  
Her eyes were serious. "Did something happen that I should know about?"  
  
He shook his head fast. "Nothing I really should tell you." Even if I'm the only one who noticed, he thought to himself wryly.  
  
***  
  
Ron was on his bed, glaring at the ceiling, when Neville came in.  
  
Neville smiled sheepishly. "Sorry. I didn't mean to overhear."  
  
Ron waved his arm. "I know. It's no big deal. She's sent me worse Howlers to school before." His head fell back on the pillow, his eyes back on the ceiling.  
  
Neville watched him for a minute, then went to his bed and sat down gingerly. "You know.it really was nice of you to stay awake with me last night, after."  
  
Ron sighed. "I'm not.it's just what anyone would do."  
  
Neville looked down at him seriously. "No one has before."  
  
Ron frowned at that, focusing his eyes back on Neville. "What do you mean, no one?"  
  
"I.it isn't that I get them a lot. But when they come, they stay for a few nights at a time. Usually after I visit St. Mungo's. Or when I heard about the breakout of Azkaban. And.I never told Gran about them, but she must have heard me. Sometimes.when they get really clear, I sort of yell in my sleep a bit. Wake myself up more often than not, so it's a blessing, really. I don't know if I ever got too loud at school, but Seamus asked me about them once, so I know he.he heard. So it isn't as if everyone in the world would come and wake me up and be nice to me. You're the only one."  
  
It was quite a speech, really, given his usual meekness, and Neville was a bit out of breath when he was done. Still, he got it all out. He was rather proud of himself - he used to be horribly uncomfortable speaking his feelings. He was finding it easier as his confidence in his magic grew. Maybe they were connected somehow.  
  
Ron sat up slowly, his eyes darker than normal. He studied Neville long enough to make Neville go pink. "I'm sorry, then."  
  
"What?" Neville blinked.  
  
"I'm sorry if you had them at school and I couldn't be bothered to wake up. I usually hear Harry. Strange I wouldn't hear you."  
  
Neville shrugged, now feeling a bit embarrassed by the whole thing. "I'm on the other side of the room. Harry's right beside you. It's alright, anyway, it isn't as if I blame you for being a sound sleeper or-"  
  
"It's not alright!" Ron folded his arms around his knees, his eyes sad. "I should have been there for you. Someone should have. No one needs to go through that alone."  
  
Neville looked at the bedspread, unable to meet those burning eyes. Ron was rather intense, and it was odd having all that energy focused entirely on him. "They're only dreams."  
  
"No, they're not. They never are. Not Harry's, not yours. Not anyone's. They're horrid to have, and more horrid to go through alone."  
  
Neville frowned suddenly, suspicious. He kept his eyes averted, though, and kept his voice low. "You have them too, I suppose?"  
  
"Oh, not the same. Not at all. I have stupid ones. Spiders or snakes or things like that. I'm not talking about me."  
  
But he was, Neville suspected. Maybe he just didn't realize he was. "Ron, you can't be there for everyone in the world. You've got your hands full enough with Harry."  
  
Ron snorted unhappily. "Harry." He shook his head. "Harry isn't here right now. And you should have someone too."  
  
Neville looked up at that. "Well.how about an arrangement?"  
  
Ron hesitated. "Arrangement?"  
  
Neville nodded. "Since Harry isn't here and all. How about you look out for me, in case it happens again. And I can look out for you."  
  
Ron blinked in surprise. "I told you, I don't-"  
  
"That's the deal, Weasley."  
  
Another pause of surprise, and then Ron smiled faintly. "So that's how it is, eh?"  
  
Neville nodded firmly. "That's how it is."  
  
"Well." Ron grinned slowly. "Teach you a few extra spells and you think you're powerful enough to start bossing me around."  
  
Neville met his eyes. "I suppose you'd rather me be quiet little shy and stupid Neville tripping over his own feet, then?"  
  
Ron shook his head instantly. "No." He studied Neville carefully, almost.  
  
Almost appraisingly.  
  
"No, I think you're perfect just exactly as you are right now."  
  
Neville felt the flush. It started in his chest and spread all over. He had to look down to keep the redness on his cheeks hidden.  
  
"I'm glad you're here," Ron's voice sounded again after a moment. Softer now, sincere.  
  
Neville's heart gave a little thump in his chest. He felt warm all over. Stupid blush. "Thanks," he said in response, his voice a bit unsteady.  
  
Perfect, Ron had called him. Just a figure of speech, Neville told himself instantly. Just an exaggeration. He didn't mean it.  
  
Still.it was probably the first time he had ever heard that word directed at him.  
  
Perfect.  
  
He was far from perfect. No matter how low Ron's standards might be, Neville couldn't come close. He was chubby, he was clumsy. Forgetful, quiet, too shy. Too scared. Not perfect.  
  
But Ron had said it. No one else had, ever, and now Ron did. Ron, who was best friends with the boy who was probably as close to perfect as anyone could get. Brave and devoted and smart and talented Harry Potter.  
  
But that was Harry. This was Ron. Ron, who got overlooked as well. Who had bad dreams but didn't think they were important enough to matter, though he thought Neville's did.  
  
Ron, who sat up with him and told him stupid jokes and stories to make him smile while they waited out the night, ran from Neville's dreams.  
  
Ron with the crooked smile and gangly limbs and people laughed at him sometimes like they laughed at Neville.  
  
Neville looked up at Ron finally, gathering courage.  
  
Ron met his eyes long enough to smile, then looked down. The tips of his ears showed red with his blush.  
  
Ron, Neville added in his mind, who turned as red as Neville did over any stupid little thing.  
  
He smiled at that, and watched Ron's profile, and swore to himself with a sudden surprising intensity that if Ron had a nightmare while Neville was there, no matter how stupid he thought it was, Neville wouldn't let him be alone with it. 


	5. Hermione and a Kiss

"Ron!" The word was a squeal, and a form in the doorway became a blur charging itself at Ron.  
  
He braced himself but still nearly stumbled under the armful of overexcited Hermione. He laughed and hugged her as tight as she hugged him. "Relax, Hermione! It's only been a month!"  
  
She pulled back and smacked his arm, beaming. "So? Are you even taller, Ron? I swear you're going to be able to look Hagrid eye to eye before seventh year."  
  
Ron looked down at himself reflexively, then made a face and smacked her back gently. "How are you?"  
  
"Going a bit insane, actually. If we don't get our OWLS soon I'm going to explode!" She left his side when she caught sight of Ginny. "Ginny!"  
  
"Hermione!" Ginny matched her voice volume and the two girls threw themselves at each other hard enough to hurt. Ginny laughed and hugged as if it really had been years.  
  
"You look wonderful!"  
  
"So do you! Oh, I have so much to tell you! Dean is being a perfect ass, and you have to help me handle him!"  
  
"Is Dean here?" Hermione looked around in surprise, pulling away from her only slightly.  
  
Ginny grinned. "No. He manages to be an ass over owl."  
  
"Oh. Then that's easy to deal with."  
  
"Neville's here, though," Ron announced, his eyes going to his quiet friend, watching the reunions from the kitchen doorway with a smile.  
  
Hermione followed his gaze and beamed. "Neville! What on earth are you doing here?" She started for him.  
  
Neville got caught in a hug, and his eyes were surprised as they caught Ron's over her shoulder.  
  
Ron just shrugged with a grin.  
  
Neville hugged Hermione back awkwardly, beet red. "Well. My Gran thought it would be safer."  
  
"Yes, that's exactly what my parents thought. They're worried that they can't protect me, being Muggles and all. Dumbledore sent a letter home warning them properly of what was going on in the wizarding world. They panicked just a little bit."  
  
"You got to see them for a month, though. That's good." Ginny grinned at her friend happily.  
  
Hermione pulled away from Neville. "It was nice. I have to say I'm glad to be back here. Do we know when Harry's coming?" Her eyes got a bit more serious suddenly.  
  
"No. Dumbledore keeps saying 'soon', but you know him." Ginny rolled her eyes.  
  
"Well. I suppose he's only doing what's best." Hermione smiled at Neville warmly. "It's good to see you, anyway."  
  
Ron found himself moving towards them, feeling strangely protective. "I can make some tea and you can tell us all about whatever exciting texts you've been reading all summer." He spoke to Hermione, but went to Neville's side and pushed him into the kitchen in front of him.  
  
Neville went along willingly, smiling back at him.  
  
Hermione and Ginny followed. "I'll have you know," Hermione was saying, "that I have only read three books this entire summer so far."  
  
"Only four weeks of summer so far, and she's read three books," Ginny's voice was a grumble.  
  
Ron laughed. "Trust me, for Hermione that's slacking."  
  
They sat around the table and talked cheerfully. Hermione went on about a new Muggle music group she and a few other Muggle girls had gone to see, and Ginny pulled her into a conversation about one of the Weird Sisters, who was apparently dating Witch Weekly's Number One Bachelor Wizard on the Go.  
  
Ron was glad to see Hermione. He really was. She was a good friend to him, and there had been a time not very long ago when she had made his heart beat oddly whenever she smiled at him.  
  
Happy as he was, though, he couldn't stop himself from looking away from her every other minute or so. And he couldn't stop his eyes from going to Neville.  
  
Neville didn't seem to mind, though - every time Ron looked over at him he looked back at Ron. And smiled.  
  
Ron couldn't stop himself from returning it. Every time.  
  
***  
  
Neville was unhappy, but unsurprised, to feel himself jerk out of sleep. His heart was racing, and the echoes of distant voices were in his ears.  
  
A hand brushed his arm, making him jerk.  
  
"It's okay. Just me."  
  
Neville's eyes focused.  
  
Ron was there. He looked half-asleep, his eyes only slits, but he was there sitting beside him.  
  
Neville took a breath, calming his heartbeat. His eyes closed heavily, and strange, blurred images filled his mind.  
  
The nightmares were mostly those same blurred images. Voices speaking words he couldn't understand, and faces he didn't recognize. He couldn't have explained what the nightmares were about, or why in the last five or six years they had never changed once.  
  
They left him feeling ill every time. That was all he knew for sure. They came out of nowhere every few months or so, stayed for two or three nights, and then left him again.  
  
He hated them, but there wasn't anything much he could do about it.  
  
Ron's hand moved up and down his arm slowly. "Hey. It's okay, Neville."  
  
Neville just lay there for a long moment, enjoying the light touch on his arm, the low voice that sounded genuinely concerned.  
  
They were luxuries he'd never had, and he wanted to be able to remember them later.  
  
He opened his eyes again finally. "Sorry."  
  
Ron's reply was muffled by a huge yawn.  
  
Neville laughed. "You can't claim I didn't wake you up this time."  
  
Ron grinned sheepishly. "Stop apologizing, anyway. Are you okay?"  
  
"Yes. Feel stupid, but-"  
  
Ron's grip tightened on his arm. "Don't do that. It's not your fault. Are you really okay?"  
  
Neville had to swallow surprise. There was real concern there. Not just one person to another. Like a friend. A real friend.  
  
He looked at Ron's tired face and sleep-flattened hair, and nodded honestly. "I'm okay."  
  
"Yeah?" Ron studied him closely.  
  
Neville flushed under the attention, and wondered if he was destined to spend the entire summer turning shades of pink.  
  
***  
  
Hermione giggled at Bill's over-the-top impersonation of Fred cowering from his mother after she'd heard the news of their rather unorthodox departure from school.  
  
Beside her, Ginny was nearly doubled over. She had seen Bill tell the story before, of course, but she seemed to worship her two oldest brothers even more than Ron did, and she had this habit of laughing at everything they said that was supposed to be even remotely amusing.  
  
Charlie was still fresh from Romania, and spent all his time whenever his family was around with a small fond sort of smile on his face. Especially with Ginny, whom he spoiled to no end.  
  
Mrs. Weasley was laughing herself, and Mr. Weasley grinned widely despite his exhaustion.  
  
The only one not laughing was Ron.  
  
In fact, Hermione saw with surprise that Ron wasn't even paying attention to Bill. He was smiling, but his eyes were somewhere else. Somewhere behind Hermione, further in the living room.  
  
She glanced back, curious. There was no one there but Neville, laughing along with everyone else.  
  
She looked back at Ron, but his eyes were still looking that way.  
  
Odd.  
  
One last look confirmed nothing but Neville, and Bill's voice faded into the background as Hermione's thoughts kicked into gear.  
  
That was a rather strange smile on Ron's face. Like Charlie's fond smiles, but.different.  
  
Directed at Neville?  
  
She looked at Ron again out of the corner of her eye.  
  
He was grinning outright then, cheeks pink.  
  
A quick look back at Neville confirmed that Neville had caught Ron looking and was now smiling back at him.  
  
She looked away before they caught her, and turned her eyes back to Bill.  
  
She and Ginny definitely had something to talk about that night before bed.  
  
***  
  
Ron fell on his bed with a grin. "Are you frightened yet?"  
  
Neville sat on Ron's bed, full and happy and tired. "Of what?"  
  
"My family. They can be a bit much, especially if most of them are in the same room. If Fred and George had been here there would have been chaos."  
  
Neville laughed. "They're very loud."  
  
"That's one word for it. I'll bet you never would have guessed that I was the quiet one."  
  
"I still wouldn't. I've seen you louder than that before, at school."  
  
Ron laced his fingers behind his head. "Well. Maybe not. The quietest was always Percy, but he." Ron's smile faded abruptly.  
  
Percy's name hadn't come up all night. There had been some awkward moments when Charlie arrived and demanded to know where Percy was so he could batter some sense into him. But after their mum had begged him with tears on her face, Charlie let it drop.  
  
Ron knew his brother. Percy had never once apologized to anyone about anything. He was arrogant enough about himself to think that nothing he could do was wrong enough to apologize for.  
  
Still. Ron wished Percy would make some sort of an effort, if only for mum's sake.  
  
Neville seemed to sense the changing mood. He sat there silently and let Ron go through his thoughts. When he spoke, finally, his voice was hesitant. "I thought the Ministry was back on our side."  
  
Ron grimaced. "Yeah. Officially Percy has nothing to hold against us. But personally, he's a conceited git who won't come near us because he was wrong and we know it."  
  
"That.I mean, there's a war going on now. Will that really keep him away even during a war?"  
  
"Apparently the Ministry isn't entirely supporting Dumbledore. They're taking the stance that You-Know-Who's invasion of the Ministry was his first act since.since first trying to kill Harry when he was a kid, I guess. So he still pretends like he was right about everything, but we know he knows better."  
  
"Just for that he won't even visit?"  
  
"No." Ron sighed. "He's an ass. I don't think I want to see him anyway."  
  
"But.I mean, he's."  
  
"Not my brother anymore. He doesn't want to be, so good riddance." Ron glared at the wall, but Neville's cool hand on his arm brought his attention back to Neville. "I don't care. He never liked any of us anyway." His voice was sharper than he'd intended, defensive.  
  
Neville frowned, but he didn't say any of the things Ron was expecting. Any of the chastising about family being important, or how Ron might regret it later.  
  
He just looked sympathetic. "I'm sorry. He seemed nice in school."  
  
"Nice?" Ron's eyebrows went up.  
  
Neville blushed. "Oh. Well. Not nice, exactly, but he wasn't mean."  
  
"He was pompous and horrible. And he only got worse at home."  
  
"I'm sorry anyway."  
  
Ron sighed at that. "Nothing for you to be sorry about." He flashed a wan smile. "But thanks."  
  
Neville reached out and patted his arm.  
  
Ron met his eyes and felt the same odd grip in his chest he'd been getting all day whenever Neville was there. It was a strange feeling, and he had to admit it was a little scary. Like how Hermione had made him feel once or twice - at the Yule Ball, and while she was distracting Umbridge away from torturing Harry.  
  
Those moments he had looked at her and seen someone he could probably learn to love a whole lot. And that sent weird shivers through his stomach.  
  
Those shivers were exactly what he had sitting there, with Neville on his bed, Neville's hand on his arm. Neville's honest concern and interest. Neville, who had been through so many horrible things and was so much stronger than anyone at Hogwarts ever gave him credit for.  
  
Neville was more like Ron than Ron ever would have guessed. He seemed to feel so many of the same things, the things Ron had felt bad for feeling, or stupid. Things he thought were just him, because he was too horrid a person to stop feeling sorry for himself for one minute.  
  
He looked at Neville closely. The somber knowledge in those hazel eyes, framed by long, light lashes. Dark blond hair that was long enough to be swept out of his face. Round cheeks and soft-looking skin and.  
  
.and Ron was shocked to find himself thinking of Neville as beautiful. In the same way Harry was beautiful. To go through so much and still be a decent person. To want to look out for Ron even though he and his big family were so much luckier than either of them had been.  
  
But Neville.Neville had something even Harry didn't have. Neville looked at Ron like he honestly thought there was no one more important at that moment than him. Him. Goofy sidekick Ron Weasley.  
  
Harry was Ron's best friend, and certainly the most important thing in Ron's life. But even Harry had never been able to make him feel special, as if he was important himself, just with a look and an awkward pat of his hand.  
  
Ron reached up with his other hand, without thinking about what he was doing, and brushed his fingers over Neville's hand, still resting on his arm.  
  
Neville looked down at their hands, and Ron could see his throat working as he swallowed. But he didn't pull away. He just looked.  
  
Ron swallowed down his own nervousness. Whatever it was that kept his stomach tied in knots around Neville lately was working overtime now. But it wasn't a bad feeling, really.  
  
Not bad at all.  
  
Neville broke the silence, his hand firmly there on Ron's arm. "Is it horrible for me to be glad I almost got killed?"  
  
Ron laughed before he could stop himself.  
  
Neville grinned sheepishly. "I mean.it's not like we weren't friends. But.but now.I guess because we." He let out a breath. "Sorry. I know what I want to say, but-"  
  
Ron had this habit, this horrible habit of doing things without thinking. The same instincts that drove him to speak up when silence was better also made him act when he should keep still. His brain wasn't quite wired to his body the right way, so sometimes before his brain could kick in his body was already halfway to doing something.  
  
As it was, it took so little time to lean over and shut Neville's rambles off by kissing him that he didn't even start thinking about it until he was already pulling back.  
  
So Neville's obvious shock reflected perfectly the way Ron himself felt, though he was the one who did it.  
  
A split second, and it was a memory. A strangely blurred memory of a quick, awkward touch of his mouth to Neville's.  
  
His first kiss. Ron almost laughed. His first kiss after months of thinking about Hermione, or Fleur, or even Lavender Brown during his more strange moods.  
  
Now, there it was. Sort of anticlimactic, really. It came out of nowhere and now it was gone.  
  
All he had to do now was deal with it. Which could be harder than he was thinking.  
  
Neville didn't move. He just sat there, his mouth an o of surprise, his cheeks turning more and more red with every passing second.  
  
Ron felt the first hints of nervousness.  
  
When Neville spoke finally, his voice was odd. "I.my Gran will come in a few days. We always.visit my parents the first weekend every month." He swallowed again.  
  
Ron searched his eyes, seeing nervousness on Neville's face. He stayed quiet, waiting.  
  
Neville smiled faintly, his old shyness all over him. "Do you want to meet them?" he blurted out finally.  
  
Ron held his breath, surprised. "Yeah?"  
  
Neville shrugged, his eyes dropping. "It's only fair. I've met yours."  
  
But Ron knew it wasn't as simple as all that. He knew, and it made him feel as fluttery as that kiss. "Yeah. That would be great."  
  
Neville met his eyes.  
  
Ron realized his hand was still keeping Neville's in place on his arm. He moved his fingers nervously, tugging Neville's hand down and sliding their fingers together. "So you're probably not gonna hit me, then?"  
  
"Hit you?" Neville grasped his hand firmly. "For what?"  
  
Ron shrugged.  
  
Neville grinned suddenly, his shyness fading away. He leaned in and kissed Ron, quick and light.  
  
Ron smiled uncontrollably when Neville pulled back. His stomach was fluttering on overtime, and he felt warm all over. "Yeah, for that."  
  
Neville laughed.  
  
***  
  
"Harry's coming!"  
  
Neville and Ron stopped on the steps, surprised by the shouted greeting.  
  
Hermione went up to the stairs, beaming. "Dumbledore owled your father! He said the aurors were picking Harry up today!"  
  
Ron lit up and got moving again, meeting her happily. "Thank God! The last thing he needs is more time with those Muggles of his."  
  
Neville stayed behind, moving more slowly. He grinned at the news when Hermione's eyes lit on him, but he just couldn't be quite as happy as the other two.  
  
He felt something at the news, something alarmingly close to fear. 


	6. Harry

Harry seemed wan as he stepped through the door into the house. He was tense, which Neville could see easily.  
  
And which Ron and Hermione probably didn't see, since they went charging at him the moment the door was opened.  
  
He was pressed into Hermione's arms so hard his face went red, and she babbled excitedly.  
  
Neville kept his distance, knowing the three were better friends than he was, and he ought to give them time.  
  
He watched, though, and saw Ron's face go soft and sweet and caring as Harry turned to him.  
  
He saw the awkward moment between the two, broken when Hermione pushed Harry into Ron for a hug and told them to stop being such boys about everything.  
  
He wondered if he should go ahead and pack his things and get them out of Ron's room.  
  
"Hello, Harry," he greeted with a smile when Harry noticed him over Ron's shoulder.  
  
Harry smiled at him oddly, pulling away from Ron. "Neville. What are you doing here?"  
  
Neville shrugged. "Long story."  
  
"Someone's trying to kill him," Ron spoke up.  
  
"Okay, short story." Neville blushed. "It was just the one time, but my Gran."  
  
Harry nodded. "I'm glad you're safe." He turned away from them and looked slowly around at the house. His forced smile faded and he sighed. "I wish we could have gone anywhere but here."  
  
"This is the safest place right now, Harry." Hermione replied gently. She looked immediately concerned.  
  
"I know, but."  
  
Ron swallowed, went up behind Harry and touched his shoulder. "I guess there's a lot of Sirius here, huh?"  
  
Harry jerked away from his grasp. "Yes. There is."  
  
Ron stepped back instantly, his face falling. Guilt clouded his eyes.  
  
Neville frowned at that, looking between Harry and Ron.  
  
An awkward silence was broken by Mrs. Weasley, who came out from the kitchen with a towel in her hand. "Harry!" She beamed at him and approached with arms wide open. "It's so good to have you here with us, dear."  
  
Harry hugged her stiffly, but managed a smile when she pulled back. "Thanks, Mrs. Weasley. Moody said I wouldn't be here so soon but you practically ordered Dumbledore to let me come."  
  
She laughed. "Oh, nonsense. A person like me order Dumbledore to do something? Ridiculous."  
  
But Harry grinned at that almost sincerely. Neville understood why - Mrs. Weasley, when she was determined, could probably have ordered You-Know-Who to take anger management classes if she set her mind to it.  
  
"I just couldn't have you on your own this summer, Harry. Not after the horrid time you had last year."  
  
Just like that Harry was tense again. "Well. Thank you. I'd like to go up to my room, if you don't mind. It was a long flight."  
  
"Of course!" Mrs. Weasley turned and caught sight of Neville. She hesitated, remembering that Neville was now in Ron's room where Harry would have stayed. "Oh. Neville, dear, would you mind very much if-"  
  
"Mum." Ron stepped forward at that, looking determined.  
  
But before he could say anything, Harry cleared his throat softly, his eyes going to Ron. "I was wondering, if it wasn't too much trouble, if I could maybe stay by myself. For now."  
  
Ron stared at him unhappily.  
  
Harry looked away from him. "I would feel more comfortable."  
  
"Of course!" Mrs. Weasley looked concerned, but started up the stairs. "You remember how large this house is. There are more than enough rooms."  
  
Harry followed her without a look back.  
  
There was an uncomfortable silence. Neville frowned at the troubled look on Ron's face.  
  
Hermione went to Ron and touched his arm. "He still needs time. You understand that, right?"  
  
"Of course I do." Ron's voice was oddly clipped. "I'm not." He trailed off, looking up the stairs, then shook his head and moved towards the kitchen. "It doesn't matter."  
  
Neville stopped Hermione from following him. "Can I.?"  
  
She nodded gratefully. "I'll just go make sure Harry gets settled."  
  
Neville went to the kitchen, wondering what on earth he was planning to say. He was secretly glad Harry was still being so distant - he hadn't wanted to leave Ron and go back to sleeping in a quiet, lonely room. Still, he couldn't very well say that, could he?  
  
He wondered what Ron had been about to say to his mother when Harry had stopped him.  
  
Ron was sitting on the counter, long legs dangling. He smiled sheepishly at Neville when he came in. "I'm making a mess of things already."  
  
"You? Of course you're not." Neville went up to him in surprise. "Why would you think that?"  
  
Ron shrugged, swinging his legs absently. "I'm very selfish, you know. I'm a horrible person sometimes."  
  
"Ron!"  
  
He smiled. "I am. I was last year. So worried about myself and playing Quidditch when there were so many other things going on that I should have been worried about."  
  
"Ron, you-"  
  
Ron shook his head. "Look, I.I wasn't even that glad to hear Harry was coming. Isn't that horrible?"  
  
Neville's brow furrowed. Harry and Ron were best friends. No one could touch that, and everyone else at Hogwarts knew it. "You weren't?"  
  
"No. Because he reminds me of how selfish I am. If I was a real friend I would know what to do for him, wouldn't I? I would be able to say something to make him feel better about everything. I would help. That's what friends do. But I don't know how. He deserves someone better than me."  
  
"Ron! That's ridiculous. Everyone knows how good a friend you've been to him."  
  
"Really? What about fourth year? During the Triwizard Tournament?"  
  
Neville remembered clearly the times Ron and Harry had been fighting their fourth year. They had both talked to him a lot more during those weeks, he remembered somewhat wryly.  
  
"So you had a fight. Friends fight."  
  
"No. It wasn't a fight. It was me being stupid and accusing him of something he didn't do, and then not helping him at all, even when his life was in danger. What kind of person does that make me? He knows, too," Ron went on without pausing to let Neville answer. "He knows how rotten I am. He knew last year. Things weren't the same. And he probably wants nothing to do with me now. You heard what he said."  
  
"He said he wanted to be alone. He didn't say it was because he didn't want to be with you."  
  
"But he wouldn't if I was a better friend."  
  
Neville shook his head unhappily. "That's stupid."  
  
Ron frowned.  
  
Neville went to the counter, standing right in front of Ron. "Listen. I've been sharing a room with you two for five years now. Everyone in our year knows that if we mess with Harry, we mess with you, too. We know you and Hermione have done really, really brave things to help Harry. We all knew you were fighting, yeah, but we also knew that as soon as Harry got into danger, you'd be there. And you were. Right after that first task with the dragons, you made up with him, and you helped him."  
  
"But-"  
  
"Ron. Everyone in our school who knows you two knows you're as good a friend as anyone could be. You're better to Harry than any friend any of us have ever had, I'll bet you that much. If you can't see that, I'm sorry. If Harry can't see it." Neville glared back towards the living room where Harry had brushed Ron off. ".and I don't think he can see it.then he's just stupid."  
  
"Harry isn't-"  
  
Neville held up a hand, cutting of Ron's immediate, heated denial. "He is about some things."  
  
Ron frowned at him. "He's been through so much."  
  
Neville nodded easily. "Yes, he has. So it's sad he doesn't realize who his friends are, otherwise he might be having an easier go of it right now, instead of wanting to suffer by himself."  
  
Ron studied him hard, as if looking for insincerity.  
  
Neville meant every word of it, though, so he returned Ron's measuring gaze evenly.  
  
Ron smiled finally, a faint lifting of his lips. "I didn't realize you paid such close attention."  
  
Neville shrugged, flushing slightly. "You're my friends. Both of you."  
  
Ron reached out a hand, shyness in his eyes. "Just friends?"  
  
Neville smiled and took Ron's hand in his own more than happily. He answered Ron's question with a look. It would have been a kiss, but Ron was too high sitting up there on the counter. Instead he just smiled and tugged Ron's hand gently and felt himself turning pink.  
  
Ron relaxed, his apprehension chased away. For now, anyway. "In a way I'm glad nothing's changed. I mean, I was going to ask mum if we could all three stay in a room. There are a lot of rooms big enough in this house. But this is good, too."  
  
Neville relaxed at that, letting go of some tension he hadn't realized he'd been carrying around. "Yeah. I always knew Harry would take my place when he got here. I'm glad I was wrong."  
  
"Me, too." Ron smiled, but it faded, and that apprehension came back.  
  
Neville could read his mind easily - Ron was worried that wanting to stay with Neville made him even worse of a friend to Harry.  
  
Neville sighed to himself. He had been worried about Harry coming, because he thought that once he was there that Ron would go back to being his best friend and forget all about Neville.  
  
Now he was still worried, for a completely different reason. He hadn't realized that Harry made Ron feel so unbalanced lately.  
  
He just hoped they worked out whatever was wrong between them. Even if it meant Ron leaving Neville to himself while he went off with Harry. That was better than seeing the guilty self-loathing in Ron's eyes.  
  
***  
  
Morning came, bright and new and sparkling and all that other stuff.  
  
Ron made a face against the light of the sun and flipped over onto his side, away from the window.  
  
Which left him staring right at Neville.  
  
Neville was still sound asleep, a hand flopped over his head, the other on his stomach. The covers were down around his knees, and he was snoring quietly.  
  
Ron grinned into his pillow, watching quietly.  
  
Neville Longbottom. It was really strange to think of him as the same boy Ron had first met years ago.  
  
Not much had changed about him, though, now that Ron thought about it. He looked the same, pretty much. He was still quiet, still klutzy and shy. Still had a patchy memory that made tests a pain for him in school.  
  
But he seemed so different now, all of the sudden.  
  
It was probably Ron who saw him differently now. Ron who changed.  
  
He had changed a lot the last year, he thought. This was probably the one change that was for the better. That he could open his eyes to Neville and see more than what he first thought Neville was.  
  
Look at what that one change had brought him.  
  
Neville was a really, really good person. A lot stronger than Ron (or anyone) had ever given him credit for. And nice.  
  
He made Ron feel good. Talking to Neville was different from talking to anyone else in Ron's life, and he wasn't sure why.  
  
He knew he liked it, though, and he wanted to keep talking to Neville. Keep being there with Neville.  
  
There was a lot of things he wanted to do with Neville. And tops on the list was maybe sharing more of those shy little kisses with him.  
  
Those were really nice.  
  
He sighed and sat himself up slowly, stretching his long arms over his head.  
  
Harry, he remembered suddenly.  
  
Harry was there.  
  
Apprehension immediately bubbled around in his stomach, and Ron angrily forced it down. Harry was his best friend. Harry had gone through way too much the last year, and Ron was going to be there for him. Because that's what friends did for each other.  
  
Maybe Ron wasn't much good at finding the right things to say or do, but he would be there for Harry no matter what.  
  
And it was time to prove that. He had left Harry alone the day before after he arrived, and that was too long as it was.  
  
He climbed out of bed, determined, and threw on a t-shirt and some jeans. He dressed quietly, keeping one eye on Neville.  
  
And then he headed for the door.  
  
His determination got sidetracked a bit, though, when Neville shifted a bit and mumbled something in his sleep.  
  
Ron froze, waiting. A minute later he relaxed; these weren't nightmare mumbles. Just regular sleepy sounds.  
  
He went to Neville's side, just in case, and sat gingerly on the edge of his bed. He would be there for Harry, yeah, but he wasn't about to leave Neville on his own either.  
  
Neville murmured again, scrunching his nose and furrowing his brow before everything smoothed out again.  
  
Ron grinned. Neville was just cute sometimes.  
  
He reached out with light fingers and touched the hand Neville had resting on his stomach. He let his index finger trace over knuckles and veins along the back of Neville's hand lightly.  
  
Neville sighed and his hand twitched a bit.  
  
Ron's chest filled with warmth. He really liked Neville. A lot. It was strange, maybe, but it was real.  
  
Still. He had to make sure Harry was okay. So he stood, reluctantly, and left Neville to his dreams.  
  
***  
  
Harry was standing in the kitchen staring out the window when Ron found him.  
  
"Hey," Ron said quietly to announce his presence.  
  
Harry jumped slightly, turning to him. "Ron."  
  
Ron smiled nervously. "Sleep okay?"  
  
Harry frowned. "Not really. I don't like it here."  
  
"Oh." There had to be something to say to that. Something to soothe Harry's feelings. Anything at all.  
  
But Ron's mind was blank. "Um. Maybe Dumbledore will let us go to Hogwarts early. Or.something."  
  
Harry looked back at the window. "It doesn't really matter, does it? Running away from things doesn't make them go away."  
  
"No." Ron moved in slowly. "But.I mean, so maybe you shouldn't run."  
  
Harry laughed darkly. "I'm here in his house. How is that running?"  
  
"He.Sirius wouldn't want you to be unhappy, Harry."  
  
Harry turned to him, glaring. "How do you know? Maybe that's exactly what he would have wanted."  
  
Ron stared at him. "Harry, come on."  
  
"Oh, Ron. You're just.if all you want is to offer me the same stupid comforts everyone else has, than just go away. I know he's gone, I know someday I'll feel better. I know he would want me to be happy. I know all that, and it doesn't help!"  
  
"I'm sorry," Ron said quickly. "I don't know what to say."  
  
Harry sighed. "I guess you wouldn't. Who have you ever lost?"  
  
Ron winced. You, he wanted to say. But he didn't think that would help. "I'm sorry," he said again.  
  
Harry looked at him for a minute, then turned back to the window.  
  
Ron watched him silently. His determination was starting to crumble.  
  
He should have known better. What made him think he would suddenly be able to help, when he hadn't helped once the whole year? Harry was right; who had he ever lost? He had his whole happy family right there with him.  
  
He sat down at the table, sighing in defeat. So he couldn't help - he could still be there. At least Harry would know he wasn't alone, despite losing so many people.  
  
The room was silent for a while, and Ron watched Harry's back.  
  
He cleared his throat finally and spoke. "So maybe I can't think of anything to say. If you want me to just listen or something, I can do that."  
  
Harry glanced back over his shoulder. "What is it you think I need you to listen to?"  
  
Ron grimaced and looked away. "I'm sorry, okay? I don't know what to do. I wish I did."  
  
"So why bother trying?"  
  
"You're my friend!"  
  
Harry turned to him fully. "Ron. I'm not feeling very good lately, and the last thing I need, honestly, is you hovering because you feel bad. I can't deal with your feelings when I can't even handle my own, okay?"  
  
Ron swallowed. "So.you want me to.?"  
  
Harry's glare softened. He hesitated, then lowered his eyes. "Just give me some time to myself, okay?"  
  
Ron nodded, his throat feeling too clogged to speak around. He blinked at Harry, then stood up and moved out of the kitchen without a word.  
  
He should have known better than to even try.  
  
***  
  
Neville watched in surprise as Ron walked right past him without even seeing him there.  
  
Ron headed up the stairs, his eyes on the ground, his skin pale. His shoulders were slumped.  
  
Neville looked after him, then turned to the door he had just come out of.  
  
He moved quietly and opened the door a crack, peering in.  
  
Yes, just as he figured. Harry stood there, all stiff, looking out a window.  
  
Neville frowned and shut the door again. 


	7. Just As You Are

First, a quick thanks to you guys who have sent me feedback. Thanks. On a more specific note… PadawanMage… Wow! Thanks for sticking with me through this story! Your comments are great! I mean, thanks to everyone, of course, but you especially for sending so much feedback. It really helps!

Anyway. Here's the next part. :-)

***

He woke up late that night with the sounds of voices in his ears. But for once, those voices weren't from his dreams. They were from the bed beside him.

Neville sat up, sleep clouding his mind and making his thoughts process a bit slower than normal.

Ron had nightmares differently than anyone Neville had ever seen. Not that he had seen many, but students at Hogwarts had their share. And Neville had woken to Harry's voice many times.

Ron was scrunched in on himself, curled tight in a ball that seemed smaller than his long frame should have been able to manage. He was talking in a constant stream, but nothing was intelligible. His face was pinched tight, every muscle seemed strung with tension. 

Neville pushed himself up slowly, unsure of how to deal with this. Ron looked ready to snap, like if Neville just touched him, he'd explode off the bed ready for battle. 

So he cleared his throat and spoke, voice thick with sleep. "Ron? Hey, Ron? Wake up."

Ron jerked, his face moving to Neville, his eyes still squeezed shut. His mumbled words got louder.

Neville hesitated, hovering over him awkwardly. "Ron? Um. I'm not really sure how to handle this side of things. If you could just wake up, that would probably be best." He kept his voice light.

Ron's mutterings started sounding alarmed. 

Neville bit the bullet and reached out, gingerly touching Ron's curled shoulder. "Ron? Please wake up."

Ron did as Neville predicted – he exploded, unfurling and shouting in alarm, a wayward hand catching Neville's arm hard.

Neville jumped back, holding his wounded arm. "Ron! Stop it!"

Ron's eyes opened at that, wide and fearful. He looked around wildly, scrambling to sit up. "Harry?"

Neville lowered his voice. "Ron? It's okay. You were having a dream."

Ron's eyes jerked to him. "Neville?"

"It's me."

"Are you okay?"

Neville laughed at that breathily. "Am I okay?" he repeated incredulously.

"Where is…everyone's okay?"

He approached the bed without fear now. "Everything's fine. It was a dream."

Ron seemed to melt then, relaxing every tense muscle with a sigh of relief so big it deflated him. "Oh. Wow."

Neville sat beside him. "Wow is right. I thought you didn't have nightmares."

"I don't! I told you, they're just stupid."

"Ron." Neville took his hand without waiting for permission. It felt strangely empowering. "I saw you. That wasn't stupid. It was frightening."

Ron shook his head, though his fingers trembled in Neville's grasp. His voice was strangely higher when he spoke; he sounded as if he was holding back tears. "It's stupid! You have something to have nightmares about! Harry has a lot of things to have nightmares about! What do I have? Nothing's ever happened to me!"

Neville blinked in surprise. "I don't think it works like that, Ron."

Ron shook his head stubbornly. 

"Ron." Neville grabbed his other hand, squeezing both in his own. "Look at you. Whatever your dreams are about, they obviously scare you. I don't care if they're about spiders or rainbows or anything else! I'm not about to turn my back on you because you don't think you've suffered enough to justify having bad dreams."

Ron's protests died. He sagged, leaning in to Neville and tugging his hands free to wrap arms around him tightly. His face buried against Neville's shoulder. 

He was shaking all over, Neville felt as he hugged him back as hard as he could. He rested his cheek against Ron's hair and rubbed his back soothingly. "It's okay, Ron. I'm here." The words came automatically, and he was glad. If he had stopped to think about what to say, he would have tripped over his own tongue. He hadn't been in a position to have to comfort someone before. It felt strange. Scary. 

Ron shook against him suddenly, his shoulders bobbing. But that only scared Neville for a moment before it revealed itself to be laughter. 

Ron pulled back and looked at him, eyes too bright. "Rainbows? You'd comfort me if I had nightmares about rainbows?"

Neville smacked his arm gently. "That's what I get for trying to help."

Ron shook his head, still smiling. "No, no. I'm glad you're…" He sniffled and lay himself back on Neville's shoulder, hugging him again tightly around the middle. "You meant that, didn't you?"

"It's the least I can do," Neville answered quietly. "It's only what you've done for me already. Of course I mean it. And yeah, if you had a nightmare about a rainbow, I would comfort you."

Ron squeezed him tighter. "Thanks," he said into Neville's neck.

Neville shivered involuntarily at the puff of air that hit his skin. "More than welcome," he replied with a smile.

Ron pulled back again and swiped at his eyes. "I hate having dreams," he admitted with a sigh.

Neville met his eyes silently, nodding his encouragement.

Ron shrugged. "They're just…they always seem bad lately. Not like the one tonight. That was worse than usual." He shook his head. "They leave me feeling bad, even if I can't remember what they were about."

"I'm sorry," Neville said sincerely. He knew how that felt. 

"It's okay." Ron smiled crookedly, and reached out for Neville's hand. "Waking up's been better lately, at least."

Neville felt blood rising to his face. He grinned. "That's something, anyway."

"Yeah." Ron's eyes drifted down to Neville's mouth.

Neville saw that and licked his lips unconsciously. He felt a thrum of excitement, but was it really right to think about kissing Ron after a nightmare like that? He hesitated.

Ron seemed to sense what he was thinking. He lifted his eyes back to Neville's. "Do you…" He ducked his head. "Maybe if you stay here neither of us would have nightmares," he said in a rush.

And since Neville slept less than five feet from him already, he knew Ron had to mean stay there in that bed. He knew he had to be red by then. But he answered easily. "Okay."

Ron looked up long enough to grin, then flipped the covers up and moved over to the edge of the small bed. "Dive in."

Neville obeyed willingly, settling himself onto the mattress and helping Ron tug the covers over them.

For a moment he wondered if he should stay pressed up to the side – the bed wasn't that big, and he didn't want Ron to have to squeeze. 

But Ron solved the problem by curling on his side, close to Neville. "Thanks again. Really."

Neville rolled to face him, bringing them within inches of each other. And the dilemma about kissing was suddenly back on his mind. "Don't thank me."

Ron's brow furrowed.

"I don't need you to," Neville went on softly. "I know you'll be here for me." He was amazed to discover that the confidence in his voice was real.

He _did_ know it. He knew Ron, even if most of what he knew was gained watching from a distance the last few years. Ron was incredibly loyal to his friends and family. He was loyal to Gryffindor, loyal to Hogwarts. 

He had called Neville his friend, and he had meant it, Neville knew, so he would be just as loyal to Neville now as he was to any of his other friends.

It was a realization that nearly stole Neville's breath.

Ron was his friend. Even more than that, really, though they were still too nervous to define it any further. Ron would be there for him, for anything he needed.

Neville had someone, suddenly, in the way he had always wished someone would be there for him. 

It was a revelation, and it made him even more fiercely want to be there for Ron in the same way. 

Ron leaned in and kissed him quickly, pulling back with a smile. "I'll always be here for you," he confirmed with quiet, happy sincerity.

Neville's lips tingled, and he forgot all about who was there for whom. He just wanted that feeling again. He reached for Ron, tugging at the front of his pajamas. 

Ron didn't make him ask. He snuggled in closer and rested an arm over Neville's hip.

Neville's eyes slid shut, and the warm, soft pressure of Ron's lips touched his mouth, and the flush on his cheeks instantly spread all over his body.

It wasn't quick this time. There was no reason for it to be. It was soft and easy. Everything that should have made him nervous or scared wasn't there. He wasn't afraid of this, though he had no experience and no idea what he was doing. Even though he was suddenly aware of the fact that he was doing with Ron what he was supposed to be doing with a girl. 

There were things they would have to think about, but none of those things mattered then. 

He slid himself closer to Ron, and felt the press of Ron's taller, slender body against him.

Everything felt really warm around him. His hand slid from its spot against Ron's chest to circle his back and hold him close. He could feel the sharpness of bones and wiry muscle under his hands, and it made him feel the first bit of apprehension.

Ron chose that moment to move his own hand over Neville's hip and down to brush over his stomach.

Neville pulled back, catching his breath and sliding away from Ron's touch.

Ron frowned immediately. "Sorry. I'm sorry. Did I…?"

Neville shook his head, burying his face in the pillow in embarrassment. 

"Hey." Ron's voice was gentle over Neville's head. "What's wrong?"

Neville couldn't look at him. He lifted from the pillow, feeling his face burning. "I just…" He shook his head, his hand going to his soft belly self-consciously.

He wasn't watching Ron, but there was a pause when Ron must have put it together or guessed what Neville's problem was, because Ron spoke suddenly, his voice surprised. "Are you…Neville…" 

Neville bit his lip, dragging his eyes up to hover around Ron's throat. "Sorry. I just…I know I'm not…" He blew out a breath of frustration. 

He managed to look up at Ron, and was surprised to see something like sadness on his face. 

Ron studied him seriously.

Neville gathered up his courage. "I know I'm not like the other…" But he still didn't quite have words. 

  
Ron reached out and touched his face with gentle fingers. 

Neville looked at him, embarrassed. 

Ron dropped his hand and sat still for a moment, then seemed to make some decision. He moved suddenly, lifting his arms and pulling his shirt over his head, dropping it on the bed. The blush on his cheeks started all the way down on his chest, Neville saw. 

Ron looked to Neville with sad eyes. "I'm not like them either," he said quietly. He looked down at himself, the sadness in his eyes changing to distaste.

Neville looked him over carefully, his heart hurting for the pain in Ron's eyes that looked so much like how Neville felt a lot of the time. 

Ron was…long. And very thin. He probably grew so fast he couldn't catch up. He did look awkward sitting there, as though uncomfortable about his own body. Neville knew the feeling well. 

But there was nothing wrong with him. He was thin and tall. His skin was pale, bumped with bones that showed through the slender wires of muscle. 

It was nothing to be so ashamed of, though. Neville didn't understand.

But he did recognize how Ron felt. It amazed him that Harry Potter's cheerful best friend felt that way. Then again, Ron always had been very self-deprecating, mostly in the form of jokes. 

Ron sat there silently, letting Neville stare. He didn't move for a long moment, then reached up to rub his arm lightly. "I…um." 

Neville looked back at his face and made his choice fast. He reached for the bottom of his pajama top and tugged it up over his head. His heart beat faster, and though he knew Ron would never laugh at him, he had to stop from bracing himself just in case. 

He looked down at himself, his white skin in the moonlight of the room. He grimaced, but there he was. Soft around the middle, no muscles defined anywhere. Just plain and chubby and him. 

He felt Ron's eyes on him, and he did the bravest thing he could have possibly done – he looked up at Ron's face to witness his reaction.

Ron looked down at him, serious. He studied Neville's exposed skin carefully, and then looked back up at his face.

Neville swallowed nervously. All he had to do was wait. There he was, exposed, and Ron could take him or leave him. 

Ron met his eyes and spoke so quietly it was almost a whisper. "I love you."

Neville's breath wooshed out of him, and for a moment he forgot how to breathe it back in. 

His mouth dropped open, and his poor heart just started beating that much faster. 

He braced himself, then realized there was no punch line because Ron wasn't joking.

Ron just lifted a hand weakly, as if to say 'there it is'. And now it was Neville's turn to react.

Neville's feelings warred inside of him for a few moments, but he couldn't (and wouldn't) deny that under the doubt and the surprise and everything else, there was this deep, intense feeling of happiness that was slowly overpowering everything else.

He choked out a breath that was almost a laugh, almost a sob. "Really?" he asked in amazement.

Ron nodded, rubbing both bare arms now as if cold.

Neville's next breath was definitely a laugh. "Oh. Wow. I mean, yes. I mean, me, too. Me, you. I…" He laughed again, almost hysterical. "Ron."

Ron smiled tentatively. "You mean…"

"I mean me, too! I…" He had to swallow past his emotions, but he wasn't for a moment doubtful of the truth of what he said. "I love you, too!"

Ron's smile grew. He searched Neville's eyes. "Really?" he asked in return, making Neville laugh again.

Neville nodded enthusiastically. "Really. _Really_ really. Wow."

"Wow." Ron echoed his amazed laughter, and suddenly didn't look so vulnerable sitting there. He held out a hand.

Neville took it, lacing their fingers together and beaming. 

***

Ron shifted and tried to fight the approach of consciousness, but that never worked. 

He wanted to remember the dream, hold on to it. It was nice. Strange and a bit embarrassing, but nice. There was warmth inside him from it. Around him, just thinking about it.

He sighed as he realized he was quite definitely awake. Then felt an instant blast of painful hope when he realized the warmth wasn't just a dream. 

Someone was there.

He opened his eyes instantly, and nearly sobbed out joy at Neville's dark blond head on the pillow beside his. 

Not a dream, his mind chanted at him.

Not a dream. Not a dream. 

He reached out instantly, sliding a hand over Neville's side and to his stomach. He scooted himself closer carefully, trying not to wake him, until he was pressed to Neville's back.

The skin under his hand was almost ridiculously soft. Ron's fingers drifted up and down in light strokes over his stomach, and he let his chin rest on the top of Neville's hair.  

The memory of last night warmed him more than physically. Neville's embarrassment about himself, and how Ron had actually found the courage somewhere to show himself to Neville, to let Neville see that Ron was just as imperfect as he was.

Though, honestly, Neville hadn't seemed very imperfect. Maybe he wasn't really muscular or bony, but he wasn't ugly in any way. Soft, that's what he was. And not in any way that could be looked at as bad. 

Neville was still beautiful. He felt beautiful under Ron's hand.

And last night he had looked at Ron as though Ron was as beautiful as he was.

Ron couldn't grasp it. Couldn't grasp the fact that he'd told Neville he loved him, and Neville had said it back so happily…

He didn't want to grasp it. Not yet. He just wanted to lay there and listen to Neville breathe and feel the softness under his fingers. 

****

Author's Note - I wrote this story with something specific in mind. Every time I read a slash story with Neville in it, it always says that he has mysteriously grown a few inches and has lost weight and is fit and perfect. Same with Ron. Ron is always filled out and muscular and perfect.

I wrote this scene mostly because I love these two characters for exactly the reasons why they aren't perfect, and I figured maybe they could love each other that same way. So what if Neville is chubby? So what if Ron is a beanpole with big hands and feet? That makes them human, right? They should be able to be loved even though they aren't everyone's idea of handsome. 

Does that make sense?


	8. Interventions

Neville noticed that Harry looked a little lost at the long table, surrounded by Weasleys and a few aurors and one ridiculously happy Longbottom.  
  
The whole group together was admittedly loud, especially since Fred and George had come by to spend dinner with their family. More than Harry was ready for, probably; from what Ron said Harry spent a lot of time shut up alone when he was with his Muggle family.  
  
Ron sat there beside Harry, across from Neville, and tried to ward people away from Harry.  
  
Fred asked Harry about his summer so far, and Ron had answered for him. He glared at anyone who looked as if they were going to talk to Harry. Ron was so busy talking to his family and grinning shyly across at Neville and stopping people talking to Harry at the same time that he hardly ate anything at all.  
  
Hermione sat on Harry's other side, staying silent and carefully not looking to her side. Ginny sat beside Neville, and he could tell she spent most of the meal staring at Harry.  
  
The Weasleys kept the conversation lively, though, with Bill and Charlie telling stories about other countries, and Fred and George telling their older brothers all about their departure from Hogwarts the year before.  
  
"The stuff legends are made of," Fred summed up with a proud grin.  
  
Neville had no doubt those two were already legends.  
  
Mrs. Weasley didn't seem to be as put out by them leaving school as Neville would have thought. She actually seemed rather proud that their business was doing well.  
  
Neville thought maybe she had decided losing one son was enough, so she kept her real thoughts to herself. He could understand that, he thought.  
  
Harry sat silent through it all, eating slowly and looking around him now and then as if searching for someone who wasn't there.  
  
Neville felt bad for him. He knew all about Black now, that he was Harry's godfather, that he was totally innocent. That Harry had wanted to leave the Muggles and go to live with him.  
  
But he found it odd that Harry would grieve so hard for someone he hardly knew, especially when he had an entire table full of family right there who obviously counted him as one of them.  
  
It just cemented Neville's belief that Harry didn't realize what was right in front of him.  
  
***  
  
That belief became a hardened fact in his head after dinner that night.  
  
He had volunteered to help Mrs. Weasley clean up, and when he finished he headed upstairs to his and Ron's room to remind Ron about the trip to the hospital the next afternoon.  
  
He heard voices when he past one of the doors on the other side of the hall, and slowed down.  
  
Harry was speaking clearly. "-need anyone to watch out for me like I'm too stupid to do it myself!"  
  
Neville's hands curled into fists when he heard that the voice that answered Harry was Ron's.  
  
"That's not what I'm saying, Harry. I just didn't want you to-"  
  
"I don't need anyone to look out for me. Anyone, Ron. I've always been fine on my own."  
  
"I know that. I was just worried that maybe everyone would."  
  
"Would what? Want to talk to me? Let them talk! Just because you can't think of anything to say to me lately doesn't mean I don't want to hear anyone at all."  
  
There was a pause. Ron spoke again quietly. "Fine. I'm sorry. I didn't realize it would make you angry."  
  
"Good. Thank you." Harry sounded far from grateful.  
  
Neville had to stop himself from going in there. He turned and kept going down the hall angrily, getting to his and Ron's door and shutting the door behind him with more force than was probably necessary.  
  
"Hi."  
  
He jumped a foot in the air at the voice, and saw Ginny grinning at him from his bed.  
  
"You're a little jumpy."  
  
He smiled back reluctantly. "Is something wrong?"  
  
"You and Ron are spending a lot of time together," she said calmly, studying him.  
  
He fought to keep a blush away. "We're friends."  
  
"Neville. I spent all my time at school last year with all of you, and you two didn't act like this."  
  
He hesitated. "What are you asking me?"  
  
She shrugged. "Nothing. Just making an observation. It's good that you guys are friends. Isn't it?"  
  
"Of course it is. Why wouldn't it be?"  
  
She glanced towards the door. "Harry is on his own a lot."  
  
Neville felt his slight smile go bitter. "I think that's his own fault. I mean.his own choice. He wants it that way."  
  
She sighed, standing. "I suppose. Still. He's Ron's best friend. I hope that anyone else who's Ron's friend is smart enough not to come between them."  
  
Neville frowned. "Come between them? Ginny, I was there last year too, remember? What was there to come between? Harry's." He stopped himself with difficulty.  
  
She raised her eyebrows. "Harry's what?"  
  
It was hard to remember she was only fourteen. She had a lot of her mother in her.  
  
He answered honestly, the way he would answer if it was Mrs. Weasley. "Harry's the one who's been a rotten friend."  
  
"Neville. You know how much Harry has been through."  
  
Neville almost growled. "I know, I know. He's been through so much. I don't suppose anyone else at the entire school had anything like problems last year. I don't think they're allowed to if Harry Potter has one already."  
  
She moved to him, her eyes hard. "Harry is my friend as well, Neville. Don't talk about him as if-"  
  
He threw his hands up, frustrated. "I'm sorry! I just can't stand how he treats Ron."  
  
She blinked at that. "Ron? This is about Ron?"  
  
"Who did you think it was about? Me? If you've been watching Harry so closely, you have to see what he's doing. I know he's had a lot of problems. I know life's been horribly unfair to him. But that doesn't give him the right to be so cruel."  
  
Ginny frowned, looking as if she was seriously thinking it over. "Maybe it does," she said after a moment. "Maybe he should be allowed to be upset."  
  
"Upset, yes. At Ron? No. Not at all. Not after Ron was there for him every step of the way last year. Not after he pushed Ron away so much. Not after the year Ron had, all the problems he had. Harry has no rights at all about Ron. Not anymore."  
  
She stared at him, surprised. "Neville."  
  
He sat down heavily on Ron's bed. "I'm sorry. I'm just really glad I never thought of Harry as my best friend. He's not very good at it."  
  
She seemed bothered. "You really think he upsets Ron that much?"  
  
Neville debated telling her what he had just overheard. But he kept it to himself. "I'm in here with him every night, Ginny. I know how he feels."  
  
***  
  
Ron smiled wanly and tugged at his shirt the instant the door was closed. "I'm tired."  
  
"Me, too," Neville answered, sounding unhappy.  
  
Ron looked to him instantly. "Is there something wrong?"  
  
"No." Neville studied him, then stood up. "Um. I wasn't sure which." He gestured at the beds, sheepish.  
  
Ron smiled then, and some of his unhappy thoughts were chased away. "With me. Please?"  
  
Neville returned the smile and slid into Ron's bed quickly. "Good."  
  
***  
  
Mrs. Weasley handed Neville a letter across the breakfast table. "Your grandmother would like you to spend the night with her. She's asked for aurors to watch her house."  
  
Ron spoke up before Neville could answer. "Me, too?"  
  
She looked at her son for a moment. "We can pick you up from the Longbottom's house tonight and bring you home, if you like."  
  
Ron glanced at Neville in question.  
  
Neville smiled and nodded at him.  
  
Ron grinned. "I'd rather stay there."  
  
His mother smiled. "Very well. After breakfast you should go pack a change of clothes. And then I'll have a talk with you, okay?"  
  
Ron rolled his eyes. "Oh, mum. I'm not going to behave horribly or anything."  
  
"It's not about that, Ron." Her eyes went to Harry, who sat watching them quietly while he ate, then away again fast.  
  
Ron caught the look and felt immediately nervous. "Okay," he said quietly.  
  
He felt Neville's eyes on him.  
  
From the other side of the table, he felt Harry's eyes on him, too.  
  
***  
  
"You're leaving then?"  
  
Ron looked up in surprise and saw Harry in the doorway. He turned back to the jeans he was shoving into a bag. "Just for tonight."  
  
"With Neville."  
  
Ron nodded, stuffing in a shirt and his pajamas.  
  
"Would you stay here if I asked you?"  
  
He froze, socks in his hand, and turned to Harry. "What?"  
  
Harry shrugged, looking almost defiant. "Would you?"  
  
Ron let the socks drop into the bag. "Are you planning to ask?"  
  
Harry swallowed. "I don't know."  
  
Ron frowned and turned back to his bed, to the small pack that was too full to close. He shoved his arm in, pushing everything deeper.  
  
"Ron."  
  
He stopped, but didn't look at Harry. "What?"  
  
"What's going on with you and Neville?"  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"Why are you two suddenly best friends?"  
  
"You're my best friend, Harry. You know that." But the words felt hollow. Because Ron didn't know if either of those was true anymore.  
  
"So why are you going with him?"  
  
"He's my friend, too. He wants me to go. I want to."  
  
"You want to get away from me."  
  
Ron blew out a sigh. "Harry, this has nothing to do with you." He dropped on his bed, still half-heartedly pushing at his clothes to make them fit.  
  
"You're running away."  
  
"No I'm not! I'm going with Neville. It's one night!"  
  
Harry shook his head. "That's not what I mean. The whole time I've been here, you've."  
  
Ron wanted to scream. He had been trying! Harry was the one who was running away!  
  
But he couldn't say that. That was selfish. He had to stop thinking of himself first. "I'm not. Really. But Neville."  
  
"Neville's being a better friend than me right now, I suppose."  
  
Ron's mind agreed, and he hated himself for it. "No."  
  
"Because Neville isn't halfway to mental."  
  
"Harry, come on."  
  
Harry smiled bitterly. "I can still see what's going on around me, Ron."  
  
"Harry."  
  
This was a new voice from the hallway, and Harry turned from the doorway and looked past where Ron could see. "Neville."  
  
Ron gave up on his pack. He stood up, wanting suddenly to get away from there. Away from Harry.  
  
Why couldn't he stop feeling that way?  
  
His eyes were clouding over with moisture, and he moved fast, pushing past Harry and going down the hall away from Neville and Harry and everyone else.  
  
A door opened somewhere in front of him, and he caught a glimpse of red as he passed the room Ginny and Hermione had claimed.  
  
If Ginny said anything to him, he didn't hear it.  
  
***  
  
Neville stood there, watching Ron go. He stopped himself from going after him, his eyes moving to Harry's back.  
  
Harry turned from watching Ron and glanced at him.  
  
Neville moved past him into the room. "Harry?"  
  
Harry's quiet footsteps followed him in.  
  
Neville went to Ron's bed, to the small pack spilling out clothes. He took Ron's clothes out and started folding a shirt.  
  
Harry stood there silently.  
  
Neville looked up only when his hands weren't shaking with quite so much anger. He met Harry's eyes. "Why did you do that?"  
  
"Do what?" Harry looked sincerely confused.  
  
"Why did you say that to Ron?"  
  
Harry's confusion hardened into anger. "Ron's my best friend. It doesn't have anything to do with you."  
  
Neville had to look down at the clothes to keep form saying something he might regret later. "Every time he's talked to you since you got here he's left practically in tears."  
  
Harry let out a breath loudly. "Neville."  
  
Neville dropped the neatly folded shirt into the pack and stood up. "No. Ron is my.he's my friend, too. We've spent a lot of time together this summer. I know him. Maybe better than you know him, if you really believe that stuff you were saying to him."  
  
Harry met his eyes steadily, anger all over his face.  
  
Neville folded his arms, determined. He wasn't as strong as Harry, maybe, not as powerful with magic or as brave or any of that other stuff. But he cared about his friends at least as much as Harry did.  
  
And Ron was too special to him to let this go on. "Harry. Listen to me, okay? If all you're going to do all summer is try and make Ron feel bad about himself, then just stay away from him."  
  
"Neville-"  
  
"I.I mean it, Harry. You're hurting him a lot, and I'm.I'm not going to let you."  
  
Harry gaped at him.  
  
Neville sat down, and his hands were shaking again as he started folding Ron's pajama shirt.  
  
When he looked up again, Harry was gone.  
  
***  
  
Harry ran into Ginny in the hallway, and latched on to her in his outrage. "Did you hear what he said to me?"  
  
She took his arm silently and led him into one of the empty rooms.  
  
He welcomed the privacy, pacing the floor angrily. "He thinks I'm hurting Ron! He wants me to stay away from Ron! From my best friend!"  
  
Ginny watched him pacing silently.  
  
He whirled to face her suddenly. "It's not my fault if Ron feels bad! He won't even talk to me! How can it be my fault?"  
  
Ginny frowned at him.  
  
He fell silent, silently asking for some sort of agreement from her.  
  
She sighed. "Harry. I saw him walk away from you. Neville was right. He was really upset."  
  
"How is that my fault? Just because I figured out that he's hanging around Neville to avoid me-"  
  
"Harry."  
  
He shut his mouth with a snap.  
  
Ginny stared at him, then shook her head. "Whatever's going on with Ron and Neville, it's nothing like Ron and you. Ron will probably never stop thinking of you as his best friend, even if you keep."  
  
"I keep? I keep what?"  
  
She sighed again heavily. "You're so blind. Honestly, Harry, you're my friend. But he's my brother. And I won't let anybody hurt him. Even you."  
  
Harry's mouth dropped open in shock. "Ginny."  
  
"Ron cares about you ten times more than Sirius Black ever could," she said bluntly. "And until you realize that, maybe Neville's right. Maybe you should just stay away from him."  
  
She turned and left the room.  
  
Harry stood there and stared at the door. 


	9. Meeting the Longbottoms

Thanks for the reviews! I'm glad people like this story. It's a pretty rare pairing, I guess. But I think they're sweet. 

Anyway. It's only polite I start answering some of your reviews, I think. J 

So, to Marina Floyr – Another Neville fan! Yay! I confess I'm more a Ron girl, and one of the big reasons this has Neville in it is because Harry was such a shite to Ron in the last book. Still, Neville has always been up there on the list, and after OotP he's moved right up to second place! I think I saw a bit of the Gin/Nev in the book, and I admit I wouldn't mind much if JKR goes that way. Ginny'd be good for him. Just not as good as Ron would be. 

To Sparkysparkles – Thanks! I'm glad you can see the pairing now. I know it's a strange one. I'm also glad you think Harry's in character. I was worried about making him too harsh. But he's that way in the book, so. Oh, well. 

To Waitingfor6 – Here's more. J Glad you like it! Thanks.

To Shell – Thanks a lot! I think characters are so much more interesting when they aren't perfect. Don't you?

And, of course, to PadawanMage the Great. g  Thank you times ten. I know you're just reviewing but you do it so well. And so often. Heh.   In regards to your point about how fast they said I love you…well, it's like you said. They're too young to know what the marriage and forever kind of love is. They feel this new thing and they think it's love and they don't know any different, so they say so. Maybe they're right, maybe they're wrong. It works for them, though. 

Here's the great Neville's Parents scene. 'Great', of course, being a word we use loosely. G  I'm sort of nervous about this one, so…you know…your unwavering support is more than welcome. 

Thanks again to all of you! Mwah!

****

Neville smiled at his grandmother as she strode into the house. "Good afternoon, Gran."

The tall, rigid, cool-looking witch smiled at him tightly. "Neville. I'm glad to see you well." Her eyes went to Ron.

Ron gripped his pack tightly and glanced at Neville.  
  


"This is Ron."

"I've met you before," she observed. "At the hospital, was it?" She looked down her nose at him carefully.

Ron nodded quickly. "Yes. Uh. I mean… Um. Yes."

She smiled and nodded to the door. "Alright. Let's go. I've got a port key arranged for exactly noon."

"Yes, Gran."

"Boy, where are your parents?"

Ron blinked. "Um. My mum is…"

Mrs. Weasley saved him by appearing from the door to the kitchen. "Why, Mrs. Longbottom! I'm so sorry I wasn't here to greet you."

"Mrs. Weasley, is it?" Mrs. Longbottom held out a clawed hand regally.

Mrs. Weasley shook enthusiastically. "Very nice to finally meet you! Pity my husband isn't here as well. You know, I feel it's out of place but I almost want to thank you for sending Neville to us this summer. He is just charming."

Neville flushed darkly as his grandmother's eyes lit on him briefly. 

"I'm glad he hasn't given you any trouble. Likewise, I shall take care of your son."

"I'm certain you will." She smiled and turned to Ron. "You behave, you hear me?"

"Yes, mum."

She reached up to wipe an invisible bit of dirt off his cheek. "Best behavior. I mean it."

He pulled away, making a face. "Mum!"

She let him go, turning a friendly smile to Mrs. Longbottom again. "We will see you tomorrow?"

"Yes. Noon exactly, I expect."

Mrs. Weasley nodded. "We'll wait right here for you."

Ron didn't notice until he was getting ushered out the door that Harry was standing at the top of the stairs, watching them go silently.

****

"Good afternoon, Mrs. Longbottom. Hullo there, Neville." 

Neville smiled tightly, not even bothering to look which of the usual caretakers was greeting him. His Gran would handle the social bit of this.

He was nervous. Far too nervous to speak to a stranger.

Ron stood beside him, and while his Gran was talking politely to whoever was behind the desk that day, Ron took advantage of her back being turned and gripped Neville's hand hard. "Relax, will you?"

Neville forced a smile. "I'm fine."

Ron beamed at him. He kept his voice low. "Good, because I'm happy. I don't want you so nervous when I'm so happy."

"Happy?" Neville looked at him with eyebrows raised.

Ron squeezed his hand. "I'm meeting my boyfriend's parents today. Of course I'm happy."

Neville grinned and felt his cheeks warm up.

Ron grinned back, pleased. "That's better."

"Neville? Let's go."

"Yes, Gran." His stomach churned, but Ron kept tight grip on his hand as they followed his Gran, and that helped.

"Ron. I must say I'm pleased that you're here. I was shocked to discover Neville had been hiding the truth about his parents from his friends." Her disapproving eyes went back to Neville, and Ron let go of his hand just in time. "As if they were something to be ashamed of."

Neville tensed.

Beside him, Ron smiled at the old witch pleasantly. "I don't think Neville was ever ashamed of them, ma'am. Maybe he just considers them too important to gossip about in the common room at school."

She looked at him evenly for a moment, then turned ahead and kept moving.

Neville grabbed Ron's hand this time, smiling more sincerely.

"Here we are. Frank. Alice. You both look well."

Neville swallowed hard.

His Gran automatically drew curtains to separate the two beds at the end of the ward from the rest of the room. Neville and Ron moved past her, and Neville momentarily forgot his own nervousness as he saw his mother's familiar, vacant smile. "Hello, mum."

His mother kept her same smile, humming out a nonsense tune. 

His father was the same as ever – sitting up against the pillows, watching everything with sharp eyes and not understanding a thing. At least, the medi-witches and wizards assured Neville he didn't understand anything. "Hullo, dad."

A hand touched his arm, and he turned back to his mother. She was smiling happily, her eyes shining. She nodded at him, humming. 

He smiled back and moved to sit down, but then he remembered Ron. "Oh. Mum, dad, I'd like you to meet someone."

Ron moved to his side hesitantly.

"This is Ron," Neville caught his mother's reaching hand and held it. "He's my…my friend. From Hogwarts. I wanted you to meet him."

Ron seemed unsure of what to do. He smiled and waved awkwardly with one hand. "Hi."

His Gran's voice sounded out suddenly, interrupting. "Oh, I have about had it with this place. I have told them over and over again not to let people put these weeds around Frank's bed. He doesn't like plants." A tiny little potted tree was in her hand. She cast a glare beyond the curtain, and moved off abruptly. "I'm going to have a word with those people. Neville, you be good for your parents."

"I will." Neville watched her go, and couldn't help but feel a bit more relaxed when she was gone.

When he turned back, he saw that Ron had taken a seat on his mother's bed, uncertainly perched on the edge. Neville looked to his mother and saw her hand on Ron's arm. She was still smiling as blankly as ever, but her tuneless humming had a bit of a different feeling to it suddenly. 

He moved to them, standing beside Ron. "Mum, is something wrong?"

Her eyes went to him, and her humming stopped. She released Ron and nodded at Neville.

Neville sat in his usual chair beside her. He glanced at Ron nervously, but began talking quietly. "I'm staying with friends now, mum. In a big house. You wouldn't like it there. It's sort of creepy. But the people are nice. Ron's whole family is there, almost. And our friend Hermione. I've told you about her. And Harry Potter has just come to stay with us." He held his mother's hand gently.

Ron's eyes were on him. Neville could feel his stare.

He ignored it, though. "I'm really safe there, which was why Gran sent me. Professor Dumbledore comes around now and then. There are always other aurors around. I'm sure you remember Mad-Eye Moody? He's there a lot. I think he'll be there more often now Harry's there. Everyone is really careful to protect Harry."

There was a sound from the other bed. Neville turned to his father and saw that he was leaning forward suddenly, looking around with even more wild a stare than normal. "Dad?" He set his mother's hand beside her on the bed.

His father made sounds sometimes, almost as if he was trying to talk but forgot what words sounded like. He would move his mouth and strange, garbled sounds would come out.

That's what he did when Neville moved to his side. 

Neville frowned in concern. That noise always meant that he was unhappy about something – he usually made the sounds when Neville's mum would go wandering off and was gone too long, or when his Gran took to using sharp tones in front of him. 

He wondered what was causing it now. "Dad?"

His father's hand seized, moving wildly and knocking against the table by his bed. He grasped at the table, moaning his strange words.

Neville frowned, then instantly left the curtained beds and went after his Gran.

He didn't see her, but that was no surprise. She usually got waylaid quite often by some visiting witch or wizard. Lots of people know Neville's Gran. 

But the little tree she had taken with her, the one that had been at that table beside his dad, was now at the desk where the Healers sat.

He went up to the desk. "Miss Night?"

The woman recognized Neville easily. "Why hello, Neville. I just saw your grandmother."

He nodded. "Can I take this back to my dad? I think he wants it there."

She smiled, nudging the tree towards him. "Every time she visits she insists he never liked plants before he came here. But every time she brings this to us he pitches a fit until we bring it back. Of course you can take it. It's his, after all."

He slid it off the counter. "Thank you." He didn't waste time, not wanting to leave Ron alone for too long if he was uncomfortable. 

But when he approached the curtain he heard Ron's voice over the sounds his dad was still making, and Ron didn't sound at all uncomfortable. 

"—would have been really proud of him. I mean, we all were. He knows even more magic now than I do, I think, and he's really good at it. Anyway, he's a really good friend to me. I care about him a whole lot. More than almost anything. So I'll look after him for you, since you're stuck here and all."

Neville held his breath, smiling into the trimmed leaves of the plant. His cheeks went warm. 

He moved away from the curtain, then back again with heavy footsteps to let Ron know he was there. He pushed in through the curtain and went straight to his dad's bedside. "Here you are, dad. I'll speak to Gran about this, don't worry."

The moment the tree was back in its spot his father relaxed, quieting. He sagged against the pillow and blinked his vacant stare at Neville for a long moment before looking away.

Neville turned back to his mother with a smile. "Sorry, Ron."

Ron looked back at him cheerfully. "Nothing at all. I was just filling your mum in a bit on what was happening."

Neville took his seat again, and his mother immediately looked to him, reaching out her hand.

He took it again and settled in. "Well, I'm not sure what Ron told you, but it's been pretty quiet this summer. We might live in the base of operations for Dumbledore and the wizards he trusts, but we're always sent off to our rooms when anything's actually going on."

"A shame, that," Ron put in, his eyes on Neville's mum as though there was nothing unusual about talking to a woman who obviously wasn't listening. "If only Fred and George would stop bringing their pranks over and bring something useful, like those Extendable Ears of theirs. Fred and George are two of my brothers, by the way."

"They have a shop, mum, their own shop in Diagon Alley. They're brilliant." Neville grinned. "Ron's got a really interesting family. His oldest brother worked breaking curses for the Goblins until he came back here to help Dumbledore. And Charlie, his other brother, works with dragons in Romania. Dad worked with dragons for a few months while he was still training," Neville informed Ron.

Ron smiled. "I don't know how people do it. They scare me frozen."

Neville hesitated, then looked to the curtain just to make sure his Gran hadn't magically appeared. He gripped his mother's hand tighter. "Mum. Dad. Me and Ron are more than just normal friends."

Ron reached out and touched his arm lightly, as if sensing this would be hard.

Neville glanced at him. "I don't really know what we…" But then he remembered what Ron had said on their way in. "Boyfriend," he repeated with a smile. "He's my boyfriend, mum. I really hope that's okay with you. That's why I brought him here. I know Gran would say that we're too young to talk about things like this, but I love him, mum."

Ron spoke seriously when Neville paused. "And I love him back. I'm going to try really hard to make him happy, I promise."

Neville swallowed. "I don't know how you would feel about it if…I don't think Gran will like it very much. But I'm happy. Really. I hope that's okay."

His mother's eyes drifted to him, then away again. She hummed under her breath.

Neville sighed, releasing her hand. He should have known better than to expect anything. It seemed every tie he paid them a visit he couldn't keep from hoping for a miracle. 

Still, he felt better having told them. 

He sat back, looking to his father for a moment, then up at Ron.

Ron smiled down at him happily. "Did you know," he said suddenly, turning back to Neville's mother. "The Herbology teacher at Hogwarts thinks Neville's the most bloody brilliant student she's had in years? I'll bet he didn't tell you that."

Neville flushed. "Well. She's very nice, and I do well in that class. And I like it a lot, mum. I think maybe I'd like to work in Herbology when I get out of school." He glanced back at Ron.

Ron looked comfortable sitting there. He acted like he was meeting any normal parents of any one of his friends. He didn't make Neville feel awkward at all about sitting there talking to people who never once gave any sign that they understood. 

He would have to remember later to tell Ron how grateful he was. 

For now, though, he turned back to his mother and kept talking.

***

Neville couldn't help feeling a bit apprehensive as they left the front doors of the hospital and stepped out into the street. 

It had been right there that the curse had nearly hit him last time. 

But his Gran seemed prepared. As soon as they walked out the door three robed figures strode up. "Mrs. Longbottom. Ready to get home?"

"Yes. Thank you. Neville, these are trusted wizards whom Dumbledore recommended personally. One will be outside of your bedroom tonight. If you have to leave the room for any reason before morning, I expect you to be accompanied by one of these men. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Gran."

"That goes for you as well, Mr. Weasley."

Ron nodded dutifully. "Yes, Mrs. Longbottom."

She nodded, satisfied, and turned her eyes to the aurors. "Shall we?"

***

Across the street, in the shadows, a pair of glassy, crazed eyes was watching the group depart.

Thin lips cracked into a smile. And a giggle rang out, high and malevolent.

The Longbottoms were right on schedule. 


	10. Family

AN – This is just a quick interlude to get the ball rolling on some Harry/Ginny. And because Harry needs (and some of you reviewer types agree with me on this) someone to kick him in the ass a bit. 

So, no Ron/Nev in this chapter, but they'll be back tomorrow. I'll also respond to reviews next chapter. I'm not ignoring you guys, I promise. Thanks so much for reading!!

***

Harry nearly ignored the knock. But it was too early to pretend to be asleep, and heaven only knew what drama would start if they worried he was sick or in trouble or something. 

So he stood up with a sigh and opened his door.

Ginny smiled sheepishly. "Talk to you for a moment?"

Harry hesitated, but let her in. He still felt off-center, and a bit resentful, over what she and Neville had said to him about Ron. 

Ron was his friend. His best friend. He knew Ron better than anyone did. He didn't need other people telling him how Ron was feeling.

Still, this was Ginny. And he liked Ginny, honestly. They had been a bit awkward at first, with Ginny's silly little crush on him leaving her unable to talk around him. But time had chased that out of her. She had proven that to be true last year. 

She moved into the room and looked around for a few moments. 

"Something wrong?" Harry asked, even though he didn't really feel like beginning a conversation.

"Why are you in here, anyway? You've always stayed with Ron before."

He sighed. Time to start justifying himself again. "I wanted to be alone. It's hard enough to be here, alright? I just wanted to be able to work things out on my own. It's not so evil of me, really. No matter what everyone else thinks."

She turned to him, eyebrows raised. "Harry. No one's attacked you for being in here. Have they?"

He shrugged.

She watched him as he moved to the bed. Her eyes, again, reminded him of Mrs. Weasley. Knowing and fond and annoyed, and too old to be in Ginny's young face. 

He only stood the stare for a moment. "What? What do you want, anyway?"

"I wanted to apologize to you."

"Oh." Harry laughed a bit, mirthlessly. "I was wondering if maybe it was impossible for anyone to apologize to me."

She frowned at him.

His laughter vanished. "Well?"

"Harry, let's get something clear here. I don't apologize for what I said to you. Especially about Ron. He's my brother, and as much as I like you I love him. I won't stand by and let you hurt him anymore. In fact, I'm pretty angry with myself for not seeing it sooner."

"Seeing what? God, Ginny, I'm so sorry I haven't been absolutely perfect while people have been dying around me. I know how terribly disappointed everyone must be that I had some emotions of my own."

"Harry, shut up."

His jaw shut with a snap. He stood up. "If this is your way of apologizing, maybe it would be better if you didn't."

She faced him, looking up into his eyes steadily. "You're an ass sometimes. Especially if you haven't noticed how absolutely bloody understanding everyone is trying to be about those emotions of yours."

"Get out, Ginny. I'm going to bed."

"You know perfectly well that everyone in this house thinks you're bloody remarkable. I know I do. I know my entire family does. Emotions or no emotions, you're a kid. You're just a year older than me, and you've been put through so much. We understand that, Harry."

He glared at her, then looked away angrily. "You're not going to leave, are you?"

She went on as if he hadn't spoken. "Does that bother you? Hearing that we all think you're wonderful? Does it bother you not to have a reason to hate all of us?"

He turned back to her, surprised. "To hate you?"

She folded her arms over her chest. "You seem to be looking for reasons. Maybe you think if we're all angry at you we'll leave you alone to deal with these emotions you've got. That's bloody stupid, Harry. If you want them to leave you alone, just tell them. They'll let you sulk as long as you want."

"Fine. Leave me alone."

She smiled a bit. "I said they. Not me." She hesitated then, looking at him with a touch of uncertainty. "I don't understand why you're acting like this. I wish you'd tell me if my guess was right."

He frowned. "I don't hate anyone, and I don't want anyone to hate me. I just want to be alone. Why is that so hard to understand?"

"Because, Harry. You were alone for far too long, and it didn't make you happy. Why do you think it will make you happy now?"

"Ginny…" His hands clenched into fists of frustration. "My entire family is dead. I'm allowed to act a bit irrationally, aren't I?"

"Your family is right here, Harry."

"You know what I mean!"

"No, I don't. You've had years now to accept what happened to your parents. They died a long time ago, so I know that isn't what's bothering you. Not," she added quickly when his face flushed, "that it's something you can just get over, but it isn't making you feel this hostile."

He spoke through gritted teeth. "Sirius Black—"

"—was your godfather, Harry. He wasn't family. He was a friend of your father. You wanted to live with him, I know. You wanted him to be your family, but he wasn't. Not yet."

"He was my family. The only family I had!"

"Harry, you're bloody thick."

"Get out."

She stood her ground. "Can I ask you a stupid question?"

"You will no matter what I say."

She flashed a small smile. "You're learning."

Harry frowned at her.

She met his eyes, curiosity on her face. "What made Sirius Black your family?"

"He…" Harry hesitated. "What does…" 

"Just answer me. Please."

"He just was. He cared about me. My parents trusted him. He gave me…advice, and he helped me. And…I don't know! It's not something I can put in words, is it."

She shook her head. "Maybe not. I just want to know what he had that we didn't have."

"We? Who's we?"

She gestured around as if to signify the whole house. "Us. Me, Ron, my parents. My brothers. Hermione. Why can he get to be your family and we can't?"

Harry blinked. "He was my godfather."

"Is that it?" She looked disappointed. "Well. I guess we can't do as good as that. We don't have any sort of titles for what we are to you. Ron does, doesn't he? Best friend, I thought. But maybe that doesn't mean as much as 'godfather'. I guess we can care about you and help you and risk our lives for you all we want, but we'll never be as good as he was. Your parents never knew us, so you can't know if they would have trusted us or not."

Harry hesitated. "Of course they would have." He had to look away from her when he said it, though. She was making a bit of sense, and it wasn't something he wanted to think about right then.

"Do you think so? Still, without that word, 'godfather', I guess we don't matter. Never mind that we all love you. If you want, I'll be the one to go and tell mum she can't love you like a son anymore, because she doesn't have the right. She hasn't got a fancy title."

"Ginny. Stop it. That isn't what I meant."

"But it's how you're acting."

He looked at her in unhappy surprise.

"You're pushing us away to mourn Sirius, because he was your family and we aren't. Well, fine. I just wanted to know where we stood." She sighed and turned suddenly, heading for the door.

He watched her, frozen, until she had her hand on the knob. "Wait. Ginny, it's not like that. You know it isn't."

She turned back, her face solemn. "I still want to apologize, though. If I had realized how unimportant we all were to you, I would never have gotten so mad that you were treating Ron so badly."

"Ron?" Harry went to her at that. "I don't understand. What have I been doing to Ron that was so awful?"

"Nothing." She shrugged. "He isn't anything to you, so you haven't done anything."

"Stop saying that! He's my best friend!"

"But that doesn't mean anything, does it? He's been there for you for over five years now. Right there at your side, helping you out whenever he could. Getting himself hurt and in trouble, nearly getting killed. He would, you know? He would get himself killed to save you. And I think you used to know that. You used to act like you knew, anyway. But all that changed because suddenly there was some man hiding out somewhere who called himself godfather, and you forgot all about Ron. You stopped thinking he was important. Because you had a real family, so why would you need him?"

"That's ridiculous. It wasn't like that at all."

"He's had nightmares, really bad ones, at least twice a week. That thing, that brain that he got all wrapped up in at the Ministry fight? Pomfrey said the brain attacked with dark thoughts. Not as obvious as a Cruciatus curse, maybe, but since then his brain has been filled with darkness that isn't his, and it comes alive at night, he says."

Harry frowned. "I…I didn't know that."

"No, you didn't. You didn't know that he stopped eating last year because he was so depressed, and me and Fred and George had to corner him in your dorm room and shame him into eating again."

Harry blinked, wordless. 

"You didn't know that he never stopped blaming himself for you and the twins getting kicked off the team. Or that he thought if he was just a bit smarter he would have been able to help you figure out those dreams of yours before someone had to die. You didn't know that he really adored Percy, and that Percy leaving us hit him even harder than it hit mum."

"He didn't say." Harry spoke dully. 

Ginny sighed. "You didn't ask. You didn't notice at all."

Harry turned away from her. He moved slowly back to the bed and sat, his mind whirling. "There was so much happening…"

"Yeah, Harry, I know. But there were days between. We're talking about an entire school year. There were days when you could have noticed something. How long does it take, really, to ask your best friend if he's okay?"

Harry looked down, his eyes clouding. 

Her voice was full of sympathy now, a quiet sort of matter-of-factness that hurt more than yelling would have. "The moment anything happens to you, there are a hundred people around to make sure you're alright. Who did Ron have if he didn't have you?"

"He…he had you. His family?"

She scoffed gently. "When we talked to him about his eating…that was the one time any of us said anything to him. The twins…you know how they are. They're stupid about feelings. They made fun of him for the very things he was already upset about. Me…" She sighed. "I was horrible. I was too busy trying to impress you during those DA meetings. I was dreaming about being the one that helped you save the day, and…and I noticed Ron was different, but I didn't say anything." 

Harry looked up at her.

Her eyes were bright. "He didn't have us. Even when we got back here. Mum and dad are so busy, and it's been just me and Ron. And I didn't…well. I've been a bad sister, anyway. It wasn't until Neville got here that Ron started to cheer up."

"Neville." Harry spoke his name quietly, remembering Neville's stammering, hesitant argument with him earlier. 

She nodded. "Neville's been really good for Ron, Harry. I think they've been good for each other. And it isn't that Ron is trying to replace you. You know better than that. Ron cares about you too much."

Harry nodded, wiping at blurry eyes. "I know. I don't know why I said…"

"I think he and Neville are…well, I don't know what I think. But it's like I said before – I won't let you hurt Ron anymore. And if you try and come between him and Neville, you will hurt him."

"But…I don't understand. Neville and Ron were never close or anything."

"They are now. They make each other happy, Harry."

"And I'm making everyone miserable."

"Yes, you are."

He blinked in surprise at the agreement. 

"Ron would never say it, because he's too scared of losing you. But I will. You're making everyone miserable, and it isn't fair. We're trying so hard to help you. We're ignoring each other, even, trying to help you. And you don't appreciate it at all. You don't see what's in front of you, Harry. You're too busy focusing on what you've lost. You don't see that you've got this big, loving family, and friends who would do anything for you. You keep treating us like we don't matter, and yes, it makes us miserable."

Harry sat stunned, trying to find the words to argue.

Ginny approached him suddenly. There was nothing in her eyes but sympathy. "I know you're hurt. I know it, even though I don't know quite how you feel. But you really are much luckier than you know."

He sniffled, looking at her, in shock over all of it.

She reached out and pushed a bit of hair out of his face. It was a motherly gesture that seemed….not so motherly…coming from her. She looked down at him and smiled sadly. "It doesn't matter, though. You can make us miserable, and we'll still be here to help you and to care about you. You know why?"

Harry spoke unevenly, saying words he realized were true. Words he should have seen before now. "You're my family."

She nodded. "We'll be here waiting when you're ready to join us." She smoothed his hair a bit, then turned and silently left the room.

Harry blinked as the door shut, and tears went down his cheeks. He didn't wipe them away. 


	11. A Voice in the Dark

A/N – Thank you, thank you. I'm really surprised and glad that people like this pairing, and this story. 

To Onyx and S – Don't misunderstand me. Ginny wasn't trying to say that Sirius was unimportant to Harry. Not at all. What she was saying is that there are other people in his life who love Harry and care for him. She was saying that Harry hadn't lost all his family, because there was family all around him if he would just open his eyes and see them.

Hope that takes some of the irritation away. J

To SparkySparkles – Right on! I was cheering Ginny on as well, even as I was writing it. I'm a dork like that. Hope you like this. J

Sarah – Glad you like it! Harry does need to wake up, doesn't he? G

Lady Wolfshead – Darling. Thanks so terribly much. I'm really glad you found the story, and that you like it. Ron and Neville are sorta cute together, huh? That was how this chapter started out – pure fluff. But of course plot had to sneak its way in. And don't worry. I would never hurt Neville. Much. 

C.L. Thanks! Hope you got to work on time. LOL. I get enough flack for corrupting people because I write slash. I don't want to get blamed for unemployment as well. G

And, of course, my dear PadawanMage! I promised you fluff, and fluff I give to you. I really hope you like it.

Here's the next chapter. Enjoy! And thanks again! Your reviews mean the world to me!

***

Ron looked up at the soft knock, and he smiled uncontrollably. It would only be one person. "Come in."

Sure enough Neville came in slowly. Instead of just Ron's guard there were two of the aurors outside the door, waiting. 

Neville shut the door with a nod to them. "Gran is a bit paranoid, I think. But she won't be talked out of us sleeping in separate rooms. She says it's not safe putting all eggs in one basket, whatever that means."

"So you're just here to tell me goodnight?" Ron stood up, wrapping his arms around Neville comfortably and smiling down at him. 

Neville grinned up at him. "Something like that." He pushed Ron lightly away, knocking him back against the bed and down to sit on the mattress. "You're very tall, you know."

Ron hummed his agreement. "It didn't seem to bother you before."

Neville moved to stand between Ron's legs. He had to look down now, but just a little. Ron really was very tall. "This is better."

"Mmm." Ron reached up and fidgeted with Neville's shirt. "Neville."

"Yes?" Neville leaned down a bit.

Ron met his eyes with a smile. "Thank you for today. Thanks for introducing me to your parents."

Neville's smile faded into something more serious. "Do you know why I haven't ever brought any of you there before?"

Ron shook his head silently. 

"I was afraid. I was really scared that anyone from Hogwarts who met them would…I don't know. Laugh or something. Or treat them badly. I was scaredI would end up embarrassed of them. That I would have to apologize for how they are. I never want to do that. I'm not ashamed, no matter what my Gran says. I'm not. They were legends, you know? Really powerful and important. And they're the way they are now because they were too strong to give the Death Eaters information. That's nothing to be ashamed of."

Ron nodded his agreement.

Neville sighed. "But I already trip over myself so much at school, and apologize for every stupid thing I do. I was really scared that I'd do the same thing in front of them, _because_ of them. I don't want to do that. Ever. Does that make sense?"

"Yeah." Ron reached up and touched Neville's cheek lightly. Neville really was much stronger than Ron had ever known. 

Neville smiled finally, the curve of his cheek filling Ron's hand and making him smile wider. "So…thank you for understanding. You were so great with mum, and…"

Ron shook his head. "Don't thank me for that. I'm glad it went well. I think she knows you, you know. I mean, maybe not the way she should, but she knows you. She looks at you different than she looked at anyone else. And she reaches for you. Only you." He felt bad for Neville and had since the day he found out about Neville's parents. But Neville didn't seem to need pitying words or someone to listen while he went on about how unfair life was. 

Neville accepted things and made the best of them. That took strength. 

Neville blinked bright eyes at him. "I…I think so too. She gives me something every time I go."

"The gum wrapper," Ron remembered from his first time seeing Neville's mother in the hospital, back when they had been visiting Ron's dad. 

Neville nodded with a fond smile. "I have dozens of those now. Sometimes she gives me buttons or crayons or anything else she can find. Once she gave me a spoon she must have kept after a meal. She seemed really proud of that one."

Ron smiled. "You still have it?"

He nodded. "In a box along with everything she's ever given me. It's with my things in Sirius Black's house, but usually it's right in here under the bed, where Gran won't find it. She thinks it's silly."

"In here? Is this your room?" Ron looked around in surprise.

Neville nodded. "Gran wants me to stay close to her tonight. So she's in the room next door to you, and I'm across the hall from her in my uncle's room. We should be safe no matter what, but. Like I said, she's paranoid."

"Oh." Ron looked around closer, noticing for the first time the little things that spoke of Neville's presence there. A stack of books on a shelf, a few growing plants in pots. A cage that must have been used for Trevor, Neville's frog, when they were at home. Poor Trevor was now shut up in a smaller traveling cage, in the small back entry of the Black House with Pig and Hedwig's cages, and Crookshanks' smelly things. 

He turned his attention back to Neville. He straightened up a bit, bringing them closer together, and he smiled. "I wonder what _my mum will say when we tell her we're boyfriends now."_

Neville's eyebrows went up. "Do you want to tell her?"

Ron nodded immediately. "Maybe…maybe before we go back to Hogwarts. I think she'll tell us we're too young, but I don't think she'll be mad or anything. She really likes you."

"I like her too." Neville glanced back at the door. "I should probably get to my room. Gran is strict about bedtimes."

"I imagine she's strict about everything."

He nodded. 

Ron grinned. "Do I get my 'goodnight' first?" He tugged at Neville as a hint.

Neville leaned in and rested a hand on Ron's shoulder, moving in for a kiss.

Ron made a happy little noise and slid his eyes shut. Such a little thing – two mouths touching, not even the wet, dirty kind of kisses Fred and George talked about. But it was enough every time to make him all warm and happy and light-headed. 

When they got ready for more, for that wet and messy stuff, Ron wondered if he would be able to handle it. This was so good already, and Fred and George said this was nothing.

He silenced his thoughts and focused on Neville, on the warm weight of his hand and the soft press of his lips. Ron slid his hands down Neville's shirt and lay them flat against Neville's stomach, on the soft skin he loved to feel right there at his waist. 

Neville smiled against his lips, getting more comfortable with Ron's touches every single time.

It made Ron feel even lighter and better. Despite everything he did wrong with everyone else, he seemed to be doing right with Neville. Neville felt better about himself, he didn't have the same self-conscious reservations he had at first. 

Ron was doing right by Neville, and that made him feel really good. It was a strange feeling, almost pride, but it only added to how great Neville made him feel otherwise. 

Neville's fingers brushed through his hair, and Ron made a low noise of happiness. He pulled back after another long moment and licked his lips with a hum of pleasure.

Neville grinned. "I have to go."

Ron nodded and leaned up to brush a quick kiss on Neville's smiling mouth. "Okay. I'm really glad to be here and everything, but I can't wait to get back to the house. I like sleeping with you there."

Neville met his eyes. "Me, too. You come and tell me if you have a nightmare or something, okay?"

Ron reached for his hand as Neville drew back, unwilling to let go quite yet. "You, too."

"I will." Neville squeezed his hand tightly. He bit at his lip with a smile. "I have to—"

Ron tugged him suddenly, wanting to sooth that little spot where Neville's teeth had pressed into his lip. He underestimated his strength a bit, though, and brought Neville down on top of him, sending them both sprawling flat on the bed. 

Neville laughed, burying his head in Ron's shoulder to muffle the sound so the aurors outside didn't hear anything. "Ron."

Ron waited until Neville looked up. He shifted under him until Neville was in the perfect spot for another kiss. 

Neville settled in happily and kissed back, bracing himself with his hands on the bed on either side of Ron's chest.

Ron felt something hard digging into his neck, and he pulled back long enough to reach under and hold up a small bottle of bluish liquid.

Neville was breathing a bit hard. "What's that?"

Ron grinned. "Some of that Quietus potion the twins made. I've been carrying it around waiting for a good time to get them back for that day with the coffee. Must have fallen out of my bag." He reached down and shoved it into his pocket and looked up again instantly. "Where were we?"

Neville laughed. "I was leaving."

"Is that what you call it?" Ron tugged him down. "Leave some more."

Neville giggled against his lips as they kissed. "I…" He dug his hands under Ron's loose shirt and his hands were warm on Ron's skin. "…have to…"

Ron remembered wanting to sooth Neville's lip and grinned. He pulled back enough to swipe the spot with his tongue.

Neville's protests and giggles silenced. He held himself up and blinked, surprised. "You licked me!"

Ron grinned, then wondered if maybe he had gone a bit too far. His grin faded.

And Neville grabbed his shirt and came down. "Do it again," he whispered before kissing Ron again firmly.

Ron relaxed and obeyed more than happily, bringing out his tongue to lick over Neville's lower lip again. 

Neville breathed in shakily and returned the favor, licking hesitantly.

Ron shivered and felt hot all over at the same time. He folded his arms around Neville and held him tightly as he kissed him again. This time he opened his mouth during the kiss at the same time as Neville, and instead of licking they were suddenly locked in one of those kinds of kisses Fred and George had told him about.

Neville moaned quietly against him, and Ron's mind spun. He held Neville tight, enjoying his weight and his lips and his tongue and his hands and everything else way too much. 

They pulled back after a lifetime that was probably only a couple of minutes long, and they were both panting.

Neville was flushed, his eyes wide in wonder. "Wow."

Ron swallowed and licked his lips. "Yeah." When Fred and George had talked about it, it seemed so gross. But…

Wow.

Neville sat up suddenly, looking reluctant. "I really have to go. Gran will—"

"I know, I know." Ron sat up as Neville stood, and reached for his hand. He laced their fingers together, his heart still racing. "I do love you, you know. Even if I'm too young."

Neville moved back to him instantly and kissed him again hard. "Me, too."

Ron released his hand, but grabbed his arm as Neville backed away again. 

Neville laughed. "Ron. I have to go."

"I know!" Ron sighed, taking in Neville's face one last long time before letting him go. He smiled at the sight – Neville was red-faced still, his hair ruffled. His lips even seemed darker or something. 

He was beautiful. 

Neville's eyes seemed to reflect the adoration Ron felt, and it made Ron warm all over, even without Neville's body there to heat him. "Good night."

Ron smiled softly, watching him go. "Good night."

The door shut softly behind Neville, and the low voice of the aurors outside sounded briefly before things fell silent again.

Ron sighed and threw himself down on the bed. He couldn't quite get the smile off his face, though he honestly didn't try very hard.

***

Neville settled down against the pillow with a sigh, smiling to himself happily. 

It was so hard to believe that someone could look at him the way Ron did. That he could feel so strongly about someone the way he felt about Ron. That something so big could come from out of nowhere and leave him flat, and make him so happy and so nervous and scared and…and happy.

He already missed the soft sound of Ron's breathing, the dip in the mattress beside him that meant Ron was there. The safety of knowing if anything happened, Ron would wake him and comfort him and just be there.

Still. He had the memory of Ron's lips on his and Ron's hand unwilling to let him go, and that was enough to let him drift off to sleep fearing nothing at all. Even nightmares.

***

Harry was silent at dinner, which was nothing unusual, but this time instead of being lost in his own depressing thoughts he was watching everyone.

And he saw it, plainly. The doting little touches Mrs. Weasley couldn't resist, and the worry in her eyes. The way Hermione sat close enough to brush his arm now and then, as if to reassure herself that he was there and okay. 

They way the others spoke, including him in the conversations with the occasional 'isn't that right, Harry?' or something like it, and then going on without making him answer out loud. 

Ginny, sitting across from him. She looked at him a lot, studying. But she smiled every time he met her gaze, and once or twice he pulled himself out of his mind enough to smile back. 

Ron, if he were there. How he had tried so hard to help in whatever ways he could think of. How he tried to intercept his family, to keep Harry from having to speak when he didn't feel like it. How he tried in his uncertain way to cheer Harry up.

Ron when Harry had lashed out at him for no reason, attacking those attempts to cheer him up. How he knew Ron would be there beside him even after those harsh words, because he cared about Harry too much to walk away when Harry was being a git.

Family. He hadn't ever really felt it before, which was probably why he didn't recognize it from the start. He had always thought of the Weasleys as Ron's family, who he was just borrowing for a while. But it wasn't true.

If he and Ron had some sort of fight or something, the way they had fourth year, Mrs. Weasley wouldn't stop doting on him. The twins wouldn't stop giving him grief about every little thing. Ginny wouldn't stop…caring about him. 

And Hermione was there regardless. She had been there fourth year, and even when Harry took to ignoring her she was there the moment they needed her help.

Family. 

He would need a bit of time, maybe, to get used to the idea. 

Still. He reached under the table and brushed a hand on Hermione's arm and smiled at her when she turned to him. 

She smiled back, hope in her eyes. 

When he looked ahead again, Ginny was watching. A moment later a hard kick on his shin made him drop his fork. "Ow!"

"Harry? What is it, dear?" Mrs. Weasley asked instantly.

Harry gaped at Ginny as he reached down and rubbed his leg. "Ginny kicked me!"

"Ginny! Behave at the table! How many times do I have to…"

Her voice went on, but Harry wasn't listening. He stared at Ginny incredulously.

She looked away from her mother and grinned, her eyes twinkling.

Harry grinned back after a moment, laughing quietly. 

Family. 

***

A hand on his arm, a tight and harsh grip, drove him out of sleep and fully awake in the blink of an eye. 

Ron tried to sit up, but another hand shoved him down. "Be still!" A voice whispered harshly. 

Ron's mind was a blur, but he could focus enough to tell that whatever was going on here wasn't good. But was this an auror keeping him safe, or was this what he had to be kept safe from?

There was a noise from the door, a low knock. "You alrigh' in there?"

Ron knew then. He sat up, pushing off the hand that held him. "There's someone—"

An open-handed slap cut off his words, slicing against his cheek with stinging strength. "Keep your mouth shut," the voice hissed into his ear. 

A woman? Ron struggled to stand up. "What's going on?"

The sound of the doorknob being turned was followed by cursing and more frantic turning. 

Locked. But he didn't…

Ron turned to his intruder. "Who are you? What's going—"

His eyes were drawn through the darkness to a slight shimmering coming over the small unlit lamp beside the bed.

"Ahh. Come here, Longbottom." The invader was a dark form against more darkness. There was no light coming into the room from anywhere, and he couldn't see more than movement. 

A strong hand grabbed his wrist and pulled him up, and his hand was forced to touch the slightly glowing lamp.

Ron felt a sick tug in his stomach, and the darkness around him blurred and moved and changed.

A portkey.

Longbottom?

He knew with sudden sick dread that he was in a whole lot of trouble.


	12. Dumbledore and Crucio

Neville was awakened by shouts. He sat up, scrubbing at his eyes to clear them, and grabbed his wand. "_Lumos_."

He followed the path of light that shot from the tip of his wand to the door and peeked out. The auror that had been there when he went to sleep was further down the hall now. In front of his old bedroom. With the other two. 

Neville swallowed down an instant powerful fear and stepped into the hall. "What's going on?"

"_Alohamora_!_" The spell was spoken loudly, and then the sound of swearing drifted down the hall._

Neville, ignored, moved down the hall to them. "What's going on? Is something—"

"Sam, get him out of here!" one of the aurors barked.

The other man, the one who had been watching Neville, strode up to him and grabbed his arm, propelling him down the hall. "Come on, Mr. Longbottom. It ain't safe out 'ere."

"What's going on? He asked again loudly. "Where's Ron?"

"His door's locked some'ow we can't open. That's all we know right now." He steered Neville past the room he'd been sleeping in and to his Gran's door. He knocked lightly.

She opened the door fast, tying a long robe. "I heard the noise you were making. Is there something wrong?"

"We're not sure yet, Mrs. Longbottom. I'm going to stay in here with you two until we know what's 'appened." 

She looked frightened for a moment, then saw that it was Neville he was pulling in behind him. "Neville! You're safe!"

He went to her, scared at the fright on her face. "It's Ron, Gran. They're all outside his door."

His Gran turned a haughty gaze to the auror, Sam. "This is my home and you gentlemen are under my service tonight. I demand to know exactly what's going on."

Sam frowned, but answered. "'s not much I can tell ya, ma'am. Spick heard something inside the other boy's room, and now we can't get the door open. And he don't answer when we call. That's all we know."

"Can't get the door open? That's absurd. There's no magical locks on that door."

"Yes, ma'am. That's why we're a bit worried, ma'am."

Neville bit his lip and looked to the door, praying silently for Ron to come through ushered by aurors, maybe a bit scared at the panic but healthy and fine and there and...

And the door opened, but Ron wasn't the one who came through. The auror that had been guarding Ron walked in. He carried the lamp that had always sat by Neville's bed. His face was grim. "I think it's best we get you two out of here."

"Where's Ron?" Neville asked instantly.

***

"Gone." 

Mrs. Weasley gasped weakly. Her hand covered her mouth.

Mr. Weasley took her arm instantly. His face was grim. "How?"

The auror, Spick, pushed the lamp forward. "We've got someone from the Ministry coming to look at this, but there was something queer with it. I think it was made to be a port key, but only for a few moments. I've never seen nothing like it."

Neville watched the conversation, numb. Gone. Ron was gone. Taken from Neville's bedroom in Neville's house, only hours after Neville had told him good night.

He sat there and forced himself not to feel anything, because he knew if he started feeling he would be so scared it would make him sick. 

His Gran stood beside him, a hand on his shoulder calmly. Her eyes were on the Weasleys.

"Who did it? Do you know?"

"Nothing definite. We've got people going over the room."

"And that's it? You can't tell us anything else about our son?"

"Sorry, sir, no. We'll find out what happened, sure enough."

***

Ron fell back as a fist caught him in the temple. He staggered, but stayed on his feet.

"_Petrificus_ totalis!_"_

His body seized instantly. His arms jerked to his sides, his legs locked together, and he stood frozen.

The wild face in front of him was familiar. "Who are you? Why were you in that bed?"

Stupid, Ron thought to himself wildly. She had just made it impossible for him to answer.

"Where is the Longbottom brat? _Who are you?" The crazed woman peeled off the dark cloak she had been wearing and balled it up, throwing it furiously against the wall. _

Ron's fear and shock transformed then, instantly, into anger. She had been coming after Neville. 

He realized who it was then, as the woman's crazed face transformed in his mind to an evilly grinning Death Eater down in the Department of Mysteries.

Bellatrix LeStrange.

She paced towards him, but stopped abruptly. The insane anger in her eyes seemed to drain out, leaving a cool sort of thoughtfulness.

It scared Ron. Bad enough the woman was evil, now it seemed she was mental on top of it. 

Her eyes moved over his frozen form and she smiled. "A Weasley, are you?"

Ron cursed his family for their distinctive features and hoped the discovery wouldn't mean anything too horrible for him. 

"A school mate, are you? You were with the brat and his grandmother at St. Mungo's today, weren't you." It wasn't a question. She had obviously been in a position to see them.

Ron swallowed with difficulty. He really, really didn't like this.

***

The front door to the Black House swung open with a bang, and the hunched form of Mad-Eye Moody strode in, followed by a couple of wizards Neville had never seen before.

Behind them came…

"Dumbledore!" Mr. Weasley spoke out loud, more alarm in his voice than surprise.

It was the Hogwart's headmaster, sure enough. He didn't have any of the merry twinkle in his eyes that he usually had at school, but he offered the Weasleys a brief smile. "Arthur. Molly."

"They called you?" Mrs. Weasley sounded faint. 

"Don't alarm yourself, Molly." Dumbledore moved past Moody, who had grabbed the lamp from Spick and was studying it, both his good eye and his magical eye locked on it closely. 

"Professor Dumbledore." Neville's Gran greeted him as he past.

"Mrs. Longbottom. I'm sorry for the disturbance to your home."

"My only concern is for the boy."

"Yes. As is mine." Dumbledore turned an eye to Neville. "We'll sort this out, never fear."

Neville nodded stiffly.

Dumbledore continued on his way to Ron's parents. "There are no signs of a fight, or that young Ronald was hurt. We can rest assured that whoever took him wants him alive and unharmed."

Mr. Weasley didn't seem reassured. "Why did they call you?"

"They didn't ask me to come, Arthur. I was simply concerned."

Mr. Weasley sagged a bit, nodding. Neville understood his relief – if the aurors really had summoned Dumbledore, it would have meant they had some clue that whoever took Ron was so bad they needed their top wizard. 

There was a sudden noise from the stairs, and every single eye (except the one magical one that stayed locked on a certain lamp) turned instantly.

Harry was on the stairs, disheveled but wide awake. Behind him were Ginny and Hermione, standing together on the landing with worry in their eyes.

Harry spoke when no one downstairs did. "What's going on?"

"Professor Dumbledore?" Ginny moved down to the stairs and looked around. "Mum? Dad? What's wrong?"

Mrs. Weasley looked away, worry coming through in the form of tears.

Mr. Weasley left her to Dumbledore and moved to the stairs. "You may as well come down. Hermione, would you mind waking Bill and Charlie?"

"We're awake." Bill appeared from the upstairs hallway, followed by his brother.

Harry moved down the stairs quickly, looking around at the strange assortment of people. His eyes lit on Neville, then at his Gran, and he looked around instantly for someone he didn't find. "Ron," he said in alarm. "Where's Ron?"

Neville looked away from him as Dumbledore started talking calmly.

***

Ron watched helplessly as the wild pacing and mutterings of the absolutely cracked woman in front of him grew slower and more thoughtful. 

He had to remember to apologize again to Neville for having been put under this spell first year – _petrificus_ totalus_ was rather horrible. To be frozen there, hardly able to breathe, unable to do anything but watch what was happening and think about it. _

Though Neville had been able to serve out the length of the spell on the floor in the common room in Gryffindor Tower. That was perhaps a bit luckier than the position Ron was now in.

He stood there locked in place for what felt like hours before Bellatrix LeStrange turned her glassy-eyed stare back on him. 

She moved to Ron and stood there for a moment, regarding him. She had to look up to meet his gaze, a fact that seemed to amuse her. "You're a tall one, aren't you?" Her hand came up, brushing over his frozen chest. "Innocent little boy, though. All of your kind. Dumbledore's army." She sneered. "Nothing but children."

_We beat you and your master good,_ Ron wanted to remind her. Although the Department of Mysteries fight was mostly a blur to him thanks to a hex he was struck with and a brain he almost got smothered by, he had heard enough about it to know what happened. Harry and the other 'children' had defeated long-time Death Eaters, with maybe a bit of help from Dumbledore and the Order. 

Neville, Ron remembered with a feeling of pride, had been the last one standing along with Harry. He had faced down this woman, gotten cursed, and still walked out of there instead of running and hiding the way she had. 

Ron silently laughed at the woman. She was small and shrill and absolutely balmy, and he wouldn't be scared of her. 

He would have laughed in her face if he hadn't been frozen. 

She moved right into his face, grinning, and her eyes drove into his. "Unfortunately for you," she hissed in his ear, "Longbottom's house will be crawling with aurors now. The brat will be long gone, off to one of Dumbledore's hiding places. And so you will have to tell me where I can find him."

She raised her other hand, the one clutching her wand, and tapped his chest with a smile. "_Ennervate."_

Ron's body shuddered loose from the spell restraining it, and he pushed away from her instantly. He turned and made to get away.

But now he got his first good look at the room they had ported into. 

There was nothing there. No windows, no doors. No nothing. 

He turned again, backing away from her. "Where are we?"

She grinned. "Little boy. Poor little boy doesn't know what's going on."

He glared at her. "They're going to find me. They'll catch you this time."

She laughed; a squeaky, high-pitched sound that would have given Ron shivers if he hadn't been frozen. "Find you? That's exactly what I want them to do."

He backed up as she came towards him, and hit the wall.

"It's rather simple, isn't it." She approached Ron, grinning suddenly. "I have you, and I want him. Simple trade. Longbottom's no doubt as honorable and self-sacrificing as his parents. Should get him about as far in life, shouldn't it?" 

He clenched his hands into fists. He didn't have his wand, and there was no way he was good enough to do any of those wandless spells the stronger aurors knew. But there were always good old-fashioned Muggle-style defensive moves.

She must have read his mind. Her wand flicked out lightly. "_Defigo_."

From the tip of her wand sprang a black rope. It launched itself at Ron, who raised his arms to fend it off…

…and a moment later was almost as frozen as if the curse was still on him. His arms were fastened tightly against his chest, and the rope had him bound from hip to collar. 

LeStrange regarded her work with a wide smile. "Little boy, all wrapped up. Well, little boy, why don't you tell me where I can find your brat friend, hmm?"

Ron laughed mockingly. "Oh, sure. I'd be more than happy too. Stupid cow."

Her eyebrows went up. "Now now, little boy. You're supposed to respect your elders."

Ron rolled his eyes, but his heart was racing against the tight rope binding him. 

This was bad. Really bad. Worst was that he actually knew where Neville would be. He knew and he would have no choice but to tell her if she used any kind of truth serum.

But he wouldn't. He wouldn't hand Neville over to her.

Though. Neville would be in a well-protected house surrounded by aurors. Could she really get to him?

No. It wasn't worth it to find out. She worked for You-Know-Who, and Ron wouldn't be the one to give away the Order's hiding spot to You-Know-Who himself.

He just hoped the Order found him, fast. 

"Alright, little boy. Let me tell you about how things work in the grown-up world. I could care less what happens to you. The only thing I need to know is where I can send a little message to the brat."

He frowned stubbornly, looking away from her.

She sighed and moved closer. "How long do you think I'm willing to wait?"

He was pushed back against the wall, and he faced her again reluctantly.

She looked up at him, those crazed eyes intense. "Little boy," she called, her voice sing-song and high. "Little boy. Tell me what I need to know, little boy."

He twisted his bound body away from her awkwardly. "Get away from me."

A loud, high laugh answered him. And then a merrily spoken word. "_Crucio."_

Ron didn't have time to react before his entire body seemed to catch on fire and turn inside out. He screamed helplessly, falling to the floor, and tried to curl in on himself but the ropes held his spine straight. 

There were moments where he knew nothing at all except the fire in his skin, and when it passed he was left panting and shivering and more scared than he had ever been in his life.

And she was standing over him. "I'm quite good at that one," she said proudly. Her foot came out and nudged him onto his back. "Don't you think?"

Ron shuddered, his eyes locked on her wand. He tried to scoot away, but it was too hard to move with his upper body bound. 

She studied him. "Little boy smells like fear now," she said with a happy smile. "Little boy should tell me what I need to know."

Ron shook his head desperately. "I don't know where he is!"

"_Crucio_," was all he heard before the room around him vanished into fire and agony. 

And then her voice called him back. "—happen to know that your brood hasn't been going home lately. Only those two ridiculous twins. The rest of you have to be hiding out somewhere safe. Your pathetic dad is important to Dumbledore. You think we don't know that?"

He shook his head, watching her wand fearfully. "Please. I don't--"

"_Crucio." _

He was sobbing when he left the pain behind and found himself back in that room. 

  
And she was watching him with fevered eyes, as if feeding off the sight of him. "Little boy wants to go home to mummy?"

Ron tried to swallow but his mouth was bone dry. 

"Where is the Longbottom brat hiding?"

Ron's voice was hoarse, and he was suddenly stammering to get words out. "I d-don't…don't—"

"_Cru_—"

"Wait!"

She smiled in delight. "Go on."

He struggled to find something to tell her. Anything that would make her stop. "I…he…"

Her wand pointed at him again. 

"No! I mean…Hogwart's!"

Her hand lowered a bit. "You want me to believe Dumbledore's only place to hide is that school?"

He fought to gather his thoughts and answer.

The wand came up again, and her mouth formed the word.

He struggled against the magical rope that bound him desperately. "You said…you said you o-only wanted to know w-where to s-send a message!"

She regarded him. "Hogwart's. I suppose Dumbledore could get the letter to the brat, couldn't he?"

Ron nodded hard. 

She smiled again, looking almost sweet but for the light in her eyes. "_Accio_ globe._"_

From a corner of the bare room came a small, pale globe. It floated into her outstretched hand, and she turned her grin to Ron. "Do you know what this is?"

It was bigger than a snitch, but not much. It fit in her hand, pale, shining with a dull sort of glow. 

He shook his head, fearing the worst. 

"It's a way to get my message sent." She got to her knees beside him suddenly and leaned over, breathing against his ear. "Make it sound good, little boy." 

She set the globe on his chest and made to stand up, but hesitated and smiled down at him. "Poor little boy." She leaned down again and forced her mouth on his for one strange, hard moment.

He jerked back and she stood up with a smile.

His eyes went from her to the globe on his chest.

Her wand lifted, and he whimpered despite himself. "_Vox__ captivus." Her wand flicked at him._

Nothing happened. Ron tried to dig himself into the floor to get away from her.

Then she smiled and spoke one horrible word again. "_Crucio_."

When he screamed, the sound lifted out of his mouth in a fog that floated over him for a moment before being pulled into the globe. 

***

A/N – I'm in a hurry today, so I'm sending out a general thanks to you nice folks who sent me feedback for the last chapter. Yes, I _had to put some angst in. Stories aren't the same without dramatic plots. Not to me, anyway. _

I'll give you each a personal thanks next chapter, promise. G


	13. The First Message

Author's Notes at the end of the chapter.

***

Neville sat staring at the painting on the wall.

It had been funny when Ron first told him the story. Horrid Mrs. Black, who filled the house day in and day out with her evil shrieks. Neville had only heard them once for a brief moment, and that had been enough. 

And then Fred and George had perfected their silence potion, and now with one daily spray Mrs. Black was rendered silent.

She wasn't taking it well, either. She would scream and bellow and rail against anyone she saw, her mouth moving grotesquely in fury, made cartoonish by the fact that no sound came out. 

They had taken to leaving the drapes over the painting open, laughing at her mute anger. 

Neville used to find it funny. Now he sort of understood how she must have been feeling, screaming with no voice. And it wasn't funny anymore.

"Neville?" 

He looked around and spotted Mrs. Weasley coming from the kitchen. She held a steaming mug that smelled like orange and honey. "Drink this, dear."

He took the cup when she offered it, but guiltily. She was pale and wan, and looked as if she could use it more than he could. 

She nodded at him, though, and he lifted the cup of tea and sipped.

"You didn't sleep last night at all, did you?"

Neville would have laughed, but the tea was making his stomach churn unpleasantly. "No."

"Dumbledore and the best aurors we have are looking for Ron." She spoke as if trying to convince herself more than him. "We'll have him back before you know it."

Neville nodded, because it would have been cruel to voice any of his more morbid thoughts to her. 

Her eyes drifted off to stare at nothing.

He wondered if there was something he should do. She was very…motherly, and he really had no idea how to handle mothers. Not the way he would have handled his Gran, who was calmly asleep somewhere in the house. 

Well. She told him what she wanted to believe herself, so maybe he should do the same. 

He cleared his throat slightly. "Ron's really brave. He's done a lot of dangerous things before. He's going to be fine."

Her chin wobbled a bit, but she nodded stiffly. 

"Mrs. Weasley?" A new voice spoke from the stairs.

Neville recognized Harry's voice, so he didn't bother turning to look.

Harry moved up to them slowly, looking as if he also hadn't bothered trying to sleep. He sat down on the chair nearest the couch Neville and Ron's mother were sitting on. "Neville's right. Ron will be okay."

Again someone spoke words they themselves wanted to be convinced of. Neville almost smiled. Instead he looked over at Harry.

Harry smiled wanly at him. 

Mrs. Weasley looked to Harry suddenly, then back to Neville. "What is it you were talking about before? When you said there were bad things that happened to Ron that no one noticed."

Neville looked away from Harry instantly and down at his mug of tea. "I…"

She reached out and touched his arm. "I want to know what's been going on in my son's life that he hasn't told me about."

Neville swallowed, wondering if he and Ron's strange new relationship was one of the things she would want to know. 

She went on after a moment of silence. "What are these dangerous things he's done? He doesn't tell us much of anything. Except what you've done," she looked at Harry suddenly. "Brag about you for hours, he will."

Harry hesitated. "You know about our first year? The chess game he won?"

She smiled tiredly. "Professor McGonagall sent a letter home telling us all about it. His first time in hospital, wasn't it?"

Harry nodded, his eyes going distant as he remembered.

"Not his last, though," Neville said with all the humor he could manage. 

Harry choked out a laugh. "No. Not at all. He had to go back our very first day second year."

Mrs. Weasley scowled a bit, half-heartedly. "When you boys stole our car. Yes, I remember."

Harry was too lost in memory to be properly contrite. "Then there was that curse he tried to…" He trailed off, shutting his mouth.

"Curse?" Mrs. Weasley looked at him sharply. "What curse?"

"Nothing. He didn't even go to hospital for that. Just to…Hagrid." Harry couldn't hold back a smile.

Neville remembered then. Everyone who had been there had gone on to laugh long and hard about that curse. 

Harry explained finally. "He tried to curse Malfoy. He called Hermione a…" He hesitated in deference to Mrs. Weasley. "A Mudblood."

She gasped faintly. "A child used that horrible name?"

Harry nodded. "Ron was right furious. But his wand was broken. His curse backfired and he ended up spitting out slugs for hours."

Mrs. Weasley looked shocked, but her mouth turned up at the corners. "Fred and George taught him that curse, no doubt."

"No doubt," Harry agreed. "And there was something else first year. His hand. He got bit by a baby dragon. He wasn't going to go to Pomfrey, to protect Norbert and Hagrid, but his hand swelled up so big we all got a bit scared."

Neville nodded. "He was almost lucky with that, though. He didn't have to go into the Dark Forest."

Harry smiled. "No. You did."

Neville smiled back faintly.

"He did go, though. To find Aragog."

"Aragog?" Mrs. Weasley asked, looking back and forth between them.

"This huge spider Hagrid has kept in the Dark Forest."

"Spider? Ron hates spiders."

Harry laughed. "I know. He made sure to remind me of that as often as possible."

She seemed taken aback. "He's petrified."

Harry nodded and his face creased in a frown. "He broke his leg that next year."

"We got a letter about that as well. Madame Pomfrey said it was a nasty break."

Harry swallowed suddenly, his frown deepening. "He got dragged off by…Sirius. But Sirius didn't mean to hurt him. We just didn't know the truth back then, and Ron fought him hard. He was just using Ron to get me somewhere where he could tell me the truth."

Mrs. Weasley looked pinched suddenly, as if she didn't approve of Sirius much. Still, she didn't say anything. 

"Sirius felt bad for hurting Ron. Really he did. He kept trying to get Ron to be still and lay down, but Ron…" Harry looked at Mrs. Weasley, his eyes bright. "Ron stood himself up on that leg and got in front of me. He told Sirius that he'd have to kill him to get to me."

Mrs. Weasley studied Harry, her eyes alight with shock. "He never said…"

Harry went on, sniffing quietly. "Everything that happened after…I guess I just sort of forgot about that. And fourth year we were fighting and…and I didn't even want to talk to him when he tried to apologize."

Mrs. Weasley instantly touched his arm. "Harry. Boys your age fight all the time.'

Harry ignored her words. "When Dobby told me about the second task, and told me it was Ron they took…I didn't know what to think. I think part of me was surprised that they thought Ron was the most important thing in my life. But they were right, and I was stupid not to know."

"Now, Harry, dear…"

"Last year I practically ignored him, Mrs. Weasley." Harry looked at her, then turned sorrowful eyes to Neville. "I was mean to him, and to Hermione, because of things that weren't even their fault! And she told me all the time to stop picking on them, but he never said anything. He just stood there and let me…" Harry swallowed. He reached up and wiped under his eyes roughly.

Neville looked at his tea again. The last thing his fragile self-control needed was to watch someone cry.

Harry's voice shook. "He never argues with me anymore. Not once after the fight we had in fourth year. He just lets me say and do whatever I want, even if he doesn't like it. And I'm such an ass to him."

"There was a lot going on last year," Mrs. Weasley spoke sympathetically.

"I know, but…"

Neville spoke up before he could stop himself. "But you didn't once bother helping him, the way he helps you all the bloody time!"

"Neville!" 

He ignored Mrs. Weasley regretfully. He did lower his voice a bit. "He was scared to death of being a prefect. Thought he would mess it all up. And he was terrified of playing Quidditch once he got on the team. Then, of course, he was humiliated every single day after that first game. And he was so guilty after you got thrown off the team. What was worst, though, was that no one even noticed, except to laugh at him. Because there was 'a lot going on'." He glared at the mug in his hands.

Harry's voice sounded hushed. "Then you were…he told you that?"

"No!" Neville looked up finally. "I saw it happening, Harry. I paid attention. It isn't as though he tried to hide anything. That's not how he is."

"I know." It was Harry's turn to look away.

Neville drew in a breath. "He's really upset about Percy. But no one talks to him about that. And he's really scared about his OWLs, because he was such a mess last year he didn't do that well. And yeah, Harry, he's really scared of having some row with you and losing you as a friend, because he knows how it feels now. And you're so hostile lately he thinks just a word will set you off. He tried to talk to you when you got here, you know that. He wasn't running away anywhere with me. He just needed a break from trying so hard."

"I know, I know." Harry's shoulders shook.

Mrs. Weasley stood instantly and went to his chair, crouching down. "Harry, dear…"

"I'm sorry," Harry mumbled. "He's my best friend, and he's too scared to talk to me."

"He's too scared to talk to anyone," Neville replied, feeling tired. 

Mrs. Weasley stroked Harry's back soothingly, but her eyes went to Neville in something like alarm. "My Ron? My Ron is hardly scared to…"

Neville shrugged. "He doesn't tell you the good things because he assumes some brother of his has already topped it. And he doesn't tell you the bad because you've got too much to worry about as it is."

Her hand stilled. She seemed at a loss for words.

Harry wiped his eyes again. "Does he talk to you?" He seemed almost hopeful.

Neville frowned. "Not really. He doesn't think it's important enough."

Harry let out a breath.

Mrs. Weasley looked to be in shock. 

The front door opened. 

Neville turned to see Dumbledore had returned. At his side was Professor Snape. In Snape's hand was a strange cloudy globe.

***

Ron woke up for the fifth time since he'd been left alone. He rolled on his other side, but that was no more comfortable than any other position. 

There was no way to relax tied up how he was. 

Stupid woman could have taken the rope off. He was a prisoner in a room with no doors; it wasn't like having his hands free would change that. 

He was shivering even though it wasn't cold, and that didn't help him relax at all. 

When he shut his eyes he saw a wand pointed at him, and thin lips forming a cruel word. 

He sat up finally, thinking maybe it would be best if he just didn't sleep at all.

***

"A DeclamoGlobe." Snape set the globe on the table.

Mr. Weasley nodded. "We've got a few floating around the Ministry. They're handy for delivering spoken messages when there isn't a fire available and you don't want to use something embarrassing like a Howler."

"It's from whoever took Ron?" Harry asked instantly. 

Neville's eyes stayed on the globe. He watched the grey fog swirl around, wondering what it held inside.

"Yes," Dumbledore answered simply. "It was delivered to Hogwart's, presumably so I could get it to Harry."

Harry nodded glumly. "What do they want?"

Dumbledore glanced at Snape and held out a hand. 

Snape gave him a folded piece of parchment. Dumbledore in turn handed it to Harry.

Harry opened it and read quickly. His eyes shut for a moment, then he nodded to himself. "I guessed."

The parchment fell to the table, and Neville grabbed it. 

_You know who I really want._

The words were written in distinctive, jagged letters in unnecessarily dramatic red ink.

Neville felt a chill. 

"That's it? No instructions or anything?"

Snape shook his head, his usual glower even more pronounced. "That parchment was delivered along with the globe. Nothing else."

"We can expect to hear more from them. Severus, please go back to the school and await any more deliveries. One can assume that since they're sending letters to Hogwarts they don't know of our location here."

"But with Ron in their hands who knows how long until they find out?" Harry spoke grimly.

Neville glared at him instantly, his emotions conflicted. "He would never!"

Dumbledore just nodded, though. "There are spells and potions that are far stronger than a young man's will, I'm afraid. We can only hope they will be content simply to hold Ron as a hostage."

There was a solemn silence. Snape stood after a moment and gathered his robe around him. "I'll return if there's any word."

Dumbledore nodded. "I shall remain here, just in case our presence here becomes known."

Neville had to stop himself from glaring at Dumbledore, and silently wondered at his courage. He would have done it – glared directly at the Headmaster of Hogwarts and the most powerful wizard alive. 

Fortunately his attention was caught by the swirling fog of the globe again. It reminded him of the Remembrall his Gran had sent him first year that he had promptly lost. "Is there a message in there?"

Snape and Dumbledore looked at him, then followed his gaze to the globe.

Snape answered, his voice gruff. "Nothing that will help."

"But there is something?" Harry grabbed the globe. "How do we make it work?"

Snape gave a sigh that could have been irritation or anger, and left them to go to the door. 

Dumbledore held out a hand for the globe. "If it could help us deduce anything, I would play it for you all. But it won't."

Harry frowned. He held on the globe and ignored Dumbledore's hand. "What is it?"

Dumbledore sighed. "Simply proof that young Ron is indeed in their hands."

Harry paled. "Proof?"

Neville stared at the globe. A sick feeling was churning in his stomach. 

"Harry. I must ask that you trust me. Listening again will not tell us anything new."

"Professor Dumbledore, with all due respect…" Mr. Weasley stopped when Dumbledore's eyes lit on him.

But Mrs. Weasley didn't hesitate to speak. "My son's voice is on that?"

Dumbledore sighed. "He doesn't speak, Molly."

Ron's parents exchanged aghast looks. Mrs. Weasley looked to be about to faint. 

Dumbledore gently took the globe from Harry and set it back on the table. He looked around at the pale faces staring at the globe.

Neville was a second away from yelling. Didn't Dumbledore realize that after all he'd said, letting them hear it would be better than leaving them to imagine?

Dumbledore must have read his mind. He pulled a chair from the table and gestured to Mrs. Weasley. "Molly. Take a seat, please. I won't keep this from you if you wish to hear it."

She moved stiffly, petrified. 

Dumbledore looked around at the faces surrounding him. Harry and Mr. Weasley looked pale but determined. Mrs. Weasley's eyes were fastened on the globe. Neville himself knew he was probably white as a ghost, but there was no way he would miss what the kidnappers had sent of his Ron.

Dumbledore, face set grimly, gestured one hand at the globe. "_Expedio_."

Neville could only listen to a second of those horrible screams before he had to run out of the kitchen, away from it. 

***

"Little boy. Little boy?"

Ron shuddered and tried to feign sleep.

"Little boy, come play with me."

A foot prodded at him. He lay there stiffly. 

A giggle rang out, and a word. "_Crucio__."_

Ron sobbed in instant despair the moment before his body was seized and ripped and burnt and shattered, and then returned to normal moments later with just the memory remaining. 

LeStrange laughed delightedly when his eyes fell on her. "Little boy. You're quite good at this game."

Ron blinked eyes that filled with tears. "P-please untie me."

"Little boy. I wonder if little boys are all so much fun. I'll know the moment that brat is delivered to me."

Ron struggled weakly against the rope, but the magic held strong. 

"They weren't my first playmates, you know. The brat's parents? They were just the first to go all the way to the end of the game. I want to see how far he goes."

She was insane. And she seemed to be getting worse all the time. "Leave him alone," Ron got out with difficulty. 

"I wonder how far you would go. Are Weasleys better or worse than Longbottoms?" She lifted her wand and pointed it at him and rotated the tip in small circles. "Should I find out?"

"How…how long did it take?" Ron asked.

"What?" She smiled. "Oh. The game?"

Ron's mind wasn't on her anymore. It was on the vacant expressions of Neville's parents. Their sunken eyes and thinness. The emptiness on their faces. There was nothing there. Nothing for poor Neville, nothing for themselves. 

How long did they have to suffer before their minds snapped? Before all the pain drained away, taking everything else with it?

"Long time," she spoke with a happy sigh. "They were the most fun I've ever had."

Ron blinked up at her. "Please. Get the rope off. I can't escape."

"You can't?" She looked around, then smiled. "No. You can't. But you could hurt me. Maybe…maybe if we play a bit longer you won't be strong enough to hurt me. Does that sound good?"

Ron shook his head fiercely. His eyes squeezed shut. "No. No. Leave the rope. It's okay. Please." 

She grinned. "Well. We've got to send them another message, don't we?"

Ron felt tears leaking from his eyes uncontrollably. "Why? Didn't they get the last one?"

She looked at him as if he was stupid. "Little boy. Can't give away the whole game at once. We have to tell them where to send their brat, so I can send you home to mummy. Home to mummy, little boy. Is that what you want?"

Ron turned away from her. He couldn't answer.

It _was_ what he wanted. All he wanted. But saying so meant Neville had to suffer in his place. He would never say that. Even if he couldn't stop his horrid brain from thinking it. 

"We'll make a message, little boy. Only different from the other message. What shall we send?"

Ron sank back, moaning quietly. 

She laughed. "Brilliant! We'll show them how good you are at the game!"

Ron jerked back when she crouched beside him, but she was only setting another of those globes on the floor beside him. 

She stayed where she was, studying his face. "You're sweaty, little boy. Crying for mummy. Let her know you miss her. She'll be listening." Her wand came up. "_Vox__ captivus." _

Ron shut his eyes, but he could still see the tip of her wand in his head. 

"Beg me pretty, little boy, and we won't play today."

"P-please." He spoke instantly, grabbing at hope. "P-please don't…" Then he realized what she meant. What she was doing. She was capturing his voice to send to Neville, to Dumbledore and his parents. 

Ron squeezed his eyes shut painfully hard and dug courage from down deep somewhere, and spoke clearly. "Don't listen to her, whatever she says. It's a trap, Ne—"

"_Crucio_," sounded out mildly, barely reaching his ears.

He seized and burned and tried as hard as he could not to scream. He screamed anyway, bare seconds later.

***

Author's Notes.

Hi, all! Been a few days, so here I am with the next part. I'm trying to be good about posting every few days or so, because I know what it's like when you like a story but it doesn't get updated in forever.

Thanks tons for all the support! Lemme rap with you all one by one now. J

PadawanMage – as always, thanks for the support. Yes, I'm sorry, I _had_ to have Ron kidnapped. I live for angst. I love fluff, of course, but angst is where I thrive. Sorry. Yeah, at some point I think Neville may just have a confrontation with this evil nemesis from his past. I can't go and leave things unresolved, now can I? (And thanks for the note about the wand. It never even occurred to me.) So yeah, you were right about our mystery kidnapper. Actually, Voldie's connection to this might surprise you. Wait and see. Sorry to leave the boy in distress. I guess you won't be any more happy with this chapter either. Heh.

SparkySparkles – Thank you so much! You're such a great reviewer! I'm so glad you're looking so forward to this story. Here's more, just for you. J

Jillian – I'm glad you liked Ginny. I didn't care too much for her character, actually, until OotP. She really comes into her own in that one, in my opinion. She's definitely a Weasley. 

Sarah – Thanks! I'm afraid Ron isn't out of danger yet. But he will be soon, fear not. 

C.L. – Yeah, angst is great, ain't it? You can hurt the ones you love, and then spend pages and pages coddling them and caring for them and making them better. LOL. 

Amethyst – LOL. Thanks! Sorry for the long wait! Here you go, though this chapter probably didn't make you any happier. Sorry again. Heh.

And again, thanks everyone! Neville and Ron and I are honored that so many people are reading this and enjoying it! You're all really encouraging me to write faster, which is a good thing. Right? LOL.


	14. A Second Message, More Nightmares, and F...

Ron.

Harry shut his eyes and looked away, as if that would make the sounds stop.

When the scream cut off abruptly, there was silence in the room. 

At Harry's side, Arthur Weasley reached out and grabbed the globe, and clenched his hand around it as if preparing to throw it. 

"We are to send a reply," Dumbledore spoke quietly.

Harry turned to him, clenching his hands into fists. "Fine. Whatever they want, we'll give it to them. If they want me they can have me."

"Harry." Dumbledore looked at him solemnly. 

Harry cut him off with a sharp gesture. "They can have me! I'm not going to let that go on any longer."

"Putting yourself into Voldemort's hands won't solve anything."

Harry's hands were shaking. He balled them into fists. "It will save Ron."

"Do you really think they would just let him go?" Snape sounded mildly contemptuous.

Harry glared at him instantly. "You stay out of this! This is no one's choice to make but mine! Ron is my best friend!"

"Weasley is not the issue here."

"Excuse me?" Mr. Weasley turned to Snape, fury in his eyes, the globe still tight in his hand. "I think my son is the only issue here."

"The issue," Snape retorted, "is whether or not Potter's noble self-sacrifice will do any good. They won't let your son go. You know that as well as I do."

"Then what do you suppose we do? Ignore them and let them have Ron?"

Snape glared back, not even sparing a moment to sympathize with Ron's father. "The only thing we can do is find out where they've got him and get him back ourselves."

"And how long will it take to plan something like that? To get that information? Days? Weeks? With my son being an acceptable loss in the meantime?" Mr. Weasley threw the globe to the floor and moved on Snape.

But the globe shattered at his feet, and Ron's voice filled the room again. "_P-please.__ P-please don't…"_

Mr. Weasley blanched and froze.

The room fell still as it filled with the sound of pain. Harry shut his eyes and saw his best friend's face grinning in his mind and wanted to sob in frustration. 

When it silenced itself for the last time, reduced to shards on the ground, there was a hush.

Dumbledore broke the silence. "We will get Ron back as soon, and as safely, as we can."

"Which means I turn myself over to them," Harry said thickly, almost hopeful.

Dumbledore frowned at him. "The fastest way that doesn't involve putting you right where Ron is now. Severus is right – that won't solve anything."

Mr. Weasley sank into a chair, his skin so pale it was alarming. "You said we have to answer them."

A small voice spoke out from the corner behind Harry. "There's something—"

"They only want an answer. We can pretend to go along with them." Snape stood over the table, grim as always. "Once they send instructions we can find them."

"You want to ambush Death Eaters?"

Harry looked behind him, irritated, when Neville's quiet voice sounded again. "I think we're on the—"

"Longbottom. Silence." Snape glared at Neville, then to Mr. Weasley. "It's the only plan we've got."

"They won't just bring Ron with them, will they?"

"We can take one of them with us. We'll make them tell us where he's hidden."

"Professor Dumbledore?" Neville spoke up again hesitantly.

"Neville!" Harry barely spared him a glance. "Professor, this is absurd. The only way we can be sure we get Ron back is to give them what they want."

"We're not turning you over, Potter! Quit playing the martyr." 

Harry glared at Snape. "Martyr? How is it being a martyr to want to save my friend?"

"They don't want you."

Harry opened his mouth to snap, but stopped.

All eyes went to Neville, sitting up in his corner. 

"What?" Harry demanded.

Neville stood up and went to the table. He moved slowly, as if afraid of falling over. "They don't want you."

"Longbottom. Sit down and shut—"

Neville's pale face screwed up, and he looked at Snape. "You're wrong, and it's going to kill Ron. They don't want Harry."

"Who do they want, then?" Snape asked, his voice low and poisonous. 

Neville, in school, would have responded to that voice by spilling something, or blowing something up, or falling on his face. 

This Neville looked back at him evenly. "Me."

Snape's eyebrows flew up. 

Harry frowned at Neville. "You?"

"Why, exactly, do you think they want you?" Snape sounded almost amused.

Neville's hands clenched into nervous fists. 

Dumbledore stood up and moved around the table. He stopped in front of Neville, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Go on, Neville."

Neville took a breath. "Ron's voice on that…before he…" He swallowed. "He said 'don't listen to her'. And I think he started to say my name just before he…"

Dumbledore nodded gently. "Go on. What do you think he means?"

"I think Bellatrix LeStrange has him." Neville looked around. Though he was pale and his hands were trembling and he was deliberately not looking at Snape any longer, he was still more certain and cool than Harry had ever seen him. "He was asleep in my room at my Gran's house when she took him. She thought it was me. When she found out it wasn't, she sent the message."

Dumbledore frowned. "She's made an attempt on you before."

Neville nodded. "She said at the Ministry last year…she wants to finish the job. She wants me to follow my parents."

Harry breathed in, remembering. 

Neville glanced at him. "That's what she's…doing to Ron, probably. The curse. To make him…"

Dumbledore turned and went to the table. He picked up the parchment that had come with the second globe. Frowning, he passed it to Snape. "You would know her writing better than I."

Snape frowned at the parchment. He only needed a moment. "It's her. But how can we be sure who it is she's asking for? She might want to deal with Longbottom herself, but she's working for Voldemort. He wouldn't care a thing for Longbottom if he could get his hands on Potter."

"The first note said I. 'You know who I really want.' And that was in her writing as well." Dumbledore scratched at his bearded chin thoughtfully. "It isn't exactly Voldemort's style, is it?"

Snape glowered at Neville, as if it were his fault Dumbledore was right. "No."

Harry looked between them uncertainly. "Then…you think Neville's right?"

"It makes a certain amount of sense," Dumbledore replied.

There was a pause. Harry looked to Neville.

Neville sat down at the table slowly, his hands shaking as he reached for the parchment Snape had set back down. 

Harry would have felt relieved that for once, this wasn't about him. But after his arguments with Neville, his strain with Ron…

Knowing that Ron was in danger kept away any sort of relief. 

***

Ron shuddered awake, looking around instantly for her.

The room he was in was as big as his and Neville's room at Black's house had been, but bare of any sort of decoration at all. No furniture, no color, no doors, no windows. It was six squares of wall. Like he was trapped inside a cube. 

But she wasn't there. 

He breathed out a sigh, his body relaxing with a shiver. As long as she stayed away, he was fine. Even if he couldn't sleep more than an hour at a time. 

She was going to be there in his nightmares, he knew. 

Maybe he was just being pathetic again. Harry had dealt with worse then Bellatrix LeStrange. He had suffered through more than the Cruciatus curse. And he still kept his head enough to survive and escape whatever happened to him.

Ron wasn't quite as smart as Harry, he knew. Still, he was going to get through this stupid mess and find his way back home. To his family, to Harry. To Neville.

He sighed to himself and curled back into the corner as much as he could. His body was stiff from being tied so tightly that every position he found was uncomfortable. Plus, the room was lit from some source Ron couldn't see, and it didn't seem to ever shut off. It was hard to get to sleep at all. 

His thoughts turned to Neville. This horrible woman had been the one to send his parents into that hospital. To turn them into the hollow-faced, blank-eyed people he had met. 

This woman was the reason why Neville had been raised by his cool and unemotional grandmother, not by two parents who loved him. 

How different would Neville be, Ron wondered, if his parents hadn't been cursed? Was it growing up the way he had that made Neville clumsy and forgetful, and so shy? 

The same question could be asked for Harry, Ron knew. But Harry had a strong will, and a rebellious spirit. Being raised by horrible Muggles hadn't tamed him at all. It had made him more determined to face life. If James and Lily Potter had raised Harry, Ron could imagine he would be much the same as he was now. If a bit happier. 

A lot happier.

But Neville…Neville was a mystery. Who would he be now if Voldemort hadn't ruined his life?

Ron could see Neville in his mind a he lay there – his shy, sweet smiles. His eyes, round and watery blue, looking at Ron as if Ron were really special. Even though Neville couldn't see how special he himself was, he looked at Ron that way.

Maybe Neville would be different if he'd been raised by parents. But he wouldn't necessarily be better. 

How could he be? He was almost perfect as he was.

Ron smiled to himself. Such sappy thoughts. And about Neville Longbottom. A month ago he never would have believed he'd think it.

Now he couldn't imagine thinking anything else. 

He really honestly cared for Neville. He would do anything to make sure Neville didn't suffer anymore. Even survive some crazy woman and her wand and her curses.

Ron's smile faded as his mind was forcibly cast back into his current predicament. 

He was terrified, and angry for feeling that way. 

Still, he pressed himself tight against the walls, huddling in the corner looking out into the room so he'd know the minute she showed up.

No, he probably wasn't going to be getting any sleep for a while.

***

_Neville smiled at his father and set down the small tree. It was a strange plant – something Muggle, maybe, without any sort of use except looking pretty. "Here you are, dad."_

_His father flinched at his voice, his eyes going to Neville for a split second before moving around the rest of the room. His constant search for danger. _

_It had to be tiring to him. No wonder he hardly ever got out of bed any more._

_Neville sighed and turned._

_His mother was smiling at him, looking for all the world like she was waiting for him to go and talk to her._

_It sent a ray of hope shooting through him that he really should have been immune to by then. But he wasn't. "Mum? It's me."_

_She smiled and nodded, holding out her hand._

_He took it, swallowing hard. "You know me, don't you, mum? Even if you don't know why, you know me."_

_She watched his mouth as he spoke, smiling all the while. After a moment she pulled at his hand gently and nodded to the bed beside hers._

_Neville looked over and sighed. He released his mum's hand and stood. "I'll be back to talk to you," he said as he left._

_He sat down at the next bed, smiling tightly. "Hullo, Ron."_

_Ron stared. It was all he ever did, really. He seemed to hear everything that went on, but the medi-witch said that their words were just noises. He didn't understand anything. _

_They also said that Neville's parents had been the same way at first. So there was hope that someday Ron might be able to turn to him, to see him and smile. _

_Neville would hold on to that hope. _

_He reached out and touched Ron's arm. It was stiff as always, unmoving. "Ron. How are you?"_

_Ron breathed out of his mouth, suddenly faster than normal._

_Neville's spirits sunk; it was going to be one of _those_ visits. He mentally prepared himself, and then reached to the table for some tissues._

_It started as low moaning in his throat, and then tears came. Eerie, coming from an expressionless face. Neville wiped them away dutifully._

_The moaning grew in pitch and volume, turning into a chilling sort of keening sound. _

_Neville sighed and touched Ron's hand again soothingly. "It's okay. You're safe now."_

_Ron did something then he never did before – he turned his head and looked straight at Neville. The tears kept coming, and the keening didn't stop. But he looked into Neville's eyes._

_Neville swallowed down hope and fear. "Ron? I'm here now."_

_Ron's voice shut off abruptly. _

_Neville hesitated. "I'm here. You're at St. Mungo's. You're safe."_

_Ron spoke then, his voice oddly scratched and weak. "You did this to me."_

And then Neville woke up, jerking himself out of sleep, the horrified denial still on his lips. 

The room around him was dark and silent, but familiar. 

The Blacks. He was still…and Ron was still missing. Being tortured. Just like his parents.

Neville sat up, dreading the idea of more sleep. His hands shook, and he raised them to his face and wiped at his eyes carefully.

There was no one beside him. No one in the bed next to his. No one to speak to him and smile and touch his arm and tell him everything was okay. No one to stay awake and tell him stories, as if making Neville feel better was actually important. 

Neville shuddered and dropped his face into his hands. 

He didn't want Ron to be one more patient at St. Mungo's for him to visit on holidays. God, he would do anything to keep that from happening. Anything.

He shook with a sob, and there was no one there to comfort him. 

***

"It's just not fair!" Harry regretted the words the moment they came out. They were trite and stupid and didn't at all begin to cover how he felt.

Ginny just nodded, as if she understood. 

Harry went on. Ginny was a good listener, he was starting to learn. "None of it. It's not fair that Ron get taken by mistake. It's not fair he's being…being…_held_ by that horrible woman. Or that Neville is the one she wants, and not me. Or that…" He stopped, dropping onto his bed in frustration.

She looked at him for a moment, then spoke. Her voice was cautious, with just the hint of a waver to remind him that this was her own brother he was whining about, as if he was the only one suffering from Ron's kidnapping. "What are they planning to do?"

He sighed. "I don't know. Snape is going back to Hogwarts to wait. They're sending her a message telling her they'll cooperate, but what they're really planning…I don't know. They won't tell me."

"They won't?" 

He grimaced. "No. Doesn't really have anything to do with me this time, does it?" His eyes went to the closed door, as if the object of his sudden thoughts was standing right on the other side. "It's all about Neville now."

She frowned. "I wonder how he's doing."

"I'm sure he's fine. Ron isn't _his best friend. He got off lucky."_

"Harry, you're being a prat."

Harry shot her a look, ready to argue. 

She looked back evenly.

He sighed again. "I am, aren't I?

"Yes. I know you feel bad, but try and remember he's our family too. And he and Neville are good friends now. Neville's upset. Didn't you see him?"

Harry looked down at his hands. "Yeah. I know he is."

There was a light knock on the door. Hermione stuck her head in and smiled wanly. "I was just checking on Ginny."

Ginny stood up instantly. "I should go to bed anyway. It's late."

Harry stood after her. "I'll go with you."

"I think we'll be safe walking to our room, Harry." Ginny smiled tightly.

Harry shrugged. "It'll give me something to do for about ten seconds." He spoke lightly, but he went right to Hermione and hugged her with one arm lightly. "I'm glad you're here."

Hermione smiled at him, her eyes bright. "We never get any time anymore to just have fun. Have you noticed?"

Harry frowned. "We should have had time." He moved down the hall with them, speaking quietly to keep from waking anyone else. "If I hadn't been such a git when I first got here, we might have."

"Harry!" Hermione argued instantly. "You weren't a git. You were just…"

"A git," Ginny finished evenly. "And he knows it. He'll be having a nice long talk with Ron as soon as they get him away from that LeStrange woman."

Hermione turned to Harry. "Really?"

He nodded. "I've been horrid to him. And to you, as well. I'm sorry, Hermione."

She swatted his arm lightly. "You don't have to apologize to me. I understand how strange things must be for you, Harry. But…well, you and Ron should talk. You know how he is. He takes everything the wrong way."

He smiled genuinely, grateful she was trying to get the blame off his shoulders. But he wasn't about to let her get away with it. "It's not Ron's fault we were fighting. But I'll make it up to him."

They reach the bedroom the girls were staying in, and Harry stood in the doorway as they went in. "See you in the morning?"

"Of course. Sleep well, Harry." Hermione smiled at him fondly and began searching drawers for her pajamas. 

"You, too, Hermione. Ginny?"

Ginny grabbed her own worn nightshirt. She looked back at him. "What?"

He met her eyes. "Thank you. For everything."

Her face lit red and she looked away instantly. "Forget it," she said in gruff dismissal.

She was very much Ron's sister at that moment, and Harry felt a little jump in his heart at the reminder of his best friend. His own cheeks went warm, and he shut the door quickly and moved back down the hall.

He would have to find a better way to thank Ginny. She had done a lot for him just by sitting him down and making him see how blind he was being. She had given him a family that he had been ignoring all along. 

Maybe he could get her something nice at Diagon Alley when they went for school supplies later in the summer. Chances were they wouldn't get out of the house much until then, especially after Ron had been taken from under the eyes of aurors. 

He was passing the room Ron slept in and his steps faltered as he heard a strange noise. He hesitated, then moved on quiet feet to the door.

Neville was in there too, he remembered. The sounds made since then – it sounded like someone was upset. 

He straightened and bit his lip, glancing down the hall. Neville couldn't have heard him. He could slip back to his own room and neither of them would have to be embarrassed.

He was in mid-turn when a faint sob drifted through the door. 

His stomach twisted. Neville really was upset. He blamed himself for all of this. And it couldn't have been easy to know that the woman who had Ron was the same who put his parents in the hospital. 

Harry stood there uncertainly. 

He had a better understanding now of who his real family was. But Neville wasn't really in that group. He was a friend from school. Would Harry make things better or worse by checking on him?

He decided a moment later. 

No one should ever have to cry alone. Especially not if there were friends around.

He knocked on the door. "Neville?"

The sobs cut off with a loud gasp, and then there was silence.

Harry opened the door slowly. "Neville? Are you alright?"

A dark figured was sitting up in the bed furthest from the door. It looked like Neville was scrubbing at his face, but it was hard to tell. 

"Harry?"

Harry moved in, shutting the door behind him to keep from alerting anyone else in the house. "You alright?"

"Yeah." Neville spoke fast, his voice thin. "Just had a dream."

Harry frowned – he knew what that was like. "Do you want some company?"

There was a pause. Neville spoke quietly after a moment. "You…you want to…?"

"I can stay with you. I mean, if you want. If you don't I can go."

The dark form reached over, and a moment later the small lamp between the two beds lit up. "I…you don't have to. I'll just stay awake and read or something."

"Oh." Harry hesitated. He could see easily all over Neville's drawn face how upset he was. 

He thought of Ron, yet again – Ron was quick to jump into his head suddenly. 

He thought of how Ron would come to his bed at night and sit with him when he had nightmares. How Ron would whisper quietly and stay with him until he was quiet, no matter how tired he was. 

Yet another thing Harry had taken for granted. He never let Ron know that he was awake. He never said thanks, never said anything. Just rolled over and kept his eyes shut and craved the soothing words even as Ron spoke them.

He was so stupid.

He straightened with sudden determination. "I'll stay here as long as you're awake. We can read together or…or something."

Neville looked shocked. "You…Harry, you don't have to…you should sleep."

"I'd probably just have dreams of my own. I'd rather stay awake. Or…" Harry looked to the empty bed and shrugged. "I could sleep in here. Maybe that would be better still."

Neville stared at him, his eyes wide.

Harry went to the door with resolve. "Just let me get my things. I'll be right back."

***

Author's Notes:

Marymqc – Wow. blush Um, thanks. Gee. You're right, though. Lots of angst and Ron. There's nothing better than that, ever. G I'm glad you got the same explanation I did out of Ron's OOC behavior in OotP. He felt really wrong to me for most of the book, and I finally figured out why while I was writing this story. Go figure. Hey, thanks again. Hope you like the rest of the story. 

C.L. – Hell, yeah. It's about time people gave Ron his props. I think Neville's still a bit pissed at Harry, so he wants to make sure Harry knows what Ron's done for him, you know? 

SparkySparkles – Thank you, dahling. Yeah, Harry isn't a _bad person or anything, not even in this story. He's just a bit self-absorbed. I almost can't blame him, since he's been through a lot, but nothing justifies being bad to my Ron. Not ever. G Don't worry. He'll get free. Though it may not be Harry or Neville that do it. _

Arynnl – Thank you so much! Welcome to it! I'm glad you like. Here's an update for you. It shouldn't be long until my next one. 

Miste – Hey, thanks! I'm glad you like it! I started writing Ron/Neville because I was pissed with Harry for OotP and couldn't write Ron/Harry like I usually do. And Neville was so great in OotP that I figured he deserved some props. Now, of course, Nev's edging out Harry as my second favorite character. I wonder if I should feel bad about that. Heh. Anyway, I'm glad you like it so much! Those two kids are pretty sweet, huh? G

PadawanMage – As always, darling, thank you so much. I'm glad you're an angst fan, because I never write anything else, really. I figured poor Ron sitting at the dinner table at the Burrow surrounded by his loudmouthed family, the only chance he'd talk was probably when someone asked him about Harry. So yeah, Mrs. Weasley was a bit in the dark about him. Snape…Snape is sort of a mystery to me. I have a hard time writing him as a poor, lonely man who's bitter about a bad childhood, but I also can't write him as maliciously evil.  Heh. I put the dream in this chapter just for you, honey. Like it? Don't worry, LeStrange and the room and everything will be resolved soon. Though maybe not for good. J Have to keep the story going somehow, especially if you're still reading and wanting more. 

Thanks again, everyone, reviewers and nonreviewers alike. Stick with me, huh? Ron/Neville are underdogs, they need all the support they can get. G


	15. OWLS and a Plan for Escape

Neville lay for a long time in the darkness, turned towards the bed Harry was now sleeping in. The bed that had been Neville's when it was him and Ron in the room. 

Neville was sleeping where Ron had slept. Stupid, maybe, but it made him feel better.

So did Harry being there. It made him feel a bit safer, though he knew he was safe in the Black house. 

He wondered if Harry was planning to stay there until Ron was back. 

Ron.

Neville sighed and rolled on his back. His hand moved to rest on his stomach. He shut his eyes and brushed his thumb over his stomach and tried to imagine for a moment that Ron was doing it. 

Ron loved his stomach, for some reason. He would wrap his arms around it when they slept, he would touch it just like Neville did now when they kissed each other. Neville had always hated his body. But Ron liked it. And he didn't just say he liked it to make Neville feel better or something. He really seemed to like Neville as he was. 

Even stranger – Ron acted like he was the one who was lucky that they were boyfriends. As if he thought Neville could do better than him.

Silly thought. Neville closed his eyes tighter and pictured Ron there, blushing and freckled and smiling in his self-conscious way.

Neville smiled to himself sadly and kept his hand on his stomach. 

He missed Ron, already, so much it hurt.

***

Ron's eyes opened heavily, and he stared blankly up at the ceiling. 

For a moment he'd thought…

He sighed to himself and sat up awkwardly. The rope dug into his hips, but he sat straight against the wall and closed his eyes again.

He'd thought of Neville. Pictured him there, even heard his voice, almost. For a moment he thought he was waking up from this nightmare. 

But no. There he was. Still, his mind was full of Neville, and when he closed his eyes he saw Neville's face. All shy and caring and sincere, looking at Ron like he was special because Neville really thought he was.

When Ron got out of that stupid room and the ropes binding him, he was going to hug Neville and not let him go, ever. 

For now…he was really tired, and really scared of going to sleep. So he sat there and thought about all the things he was going to do when he got free.

He would take Neville to a Chudley Cannons game. No matter how hard he had to save to get tickets, he'd take Neville and tell him all about the team and the best players they had ever had, and who might get a spot on the team next year from the junior leagues. He'd teach Neville some tricks in chess that would help him maybe not get creamed every time Seamus challenged him to a game. 

Maybe Neville would sneak out with him once they were back at Hogwarts and take him to the greenhouses and tell him all about the plants there and what they did. Ron had never paid attention in Herbology, but Neville loved those plants more than anything. Ron wanted to stand there and get dragged from plant to plant and watch Neville talk. And Neville would be really excited, and he'd get all flushed and his eyes would be bright and he'd be happy. 

They both would. 

It didn't seem like it would be too much to ask. Neville deserved to be happy, anyway. He'd had a rotten go of life so far. He deserved more. 

More than Ron, really, but if Ron was who he wanted, then Ron was going to work hard to make sure he was as good to him as he could be. 

He just wanted to get out of that room and away from LeStrange and her wand and her curse. He wanted to be back at that ugly house with his mum and Ginny. He wanted to fall for one of Fred and George's stupid jokes. He wanted to listen to Bill and Charlie tell stories. He wanted to watch Harry mope. He wanted to watch Hermione read.

He wanted Neville. He wanted a whole lot of things, apparently. 

Actually, he would settle for just a way to get…

Fred and George. 

Ron's eyes shot open. 

Fred and George and their stupid Quietus potion. 

That bottle of potion from Ron's bag, the one that he'd nearly laid on with Neville the night he was taken…he had put it in his pocket, hadn't he? And with this rope around him, she hadn't bothered to search him or anything.

He blinked down at his jeans and saw the telltale lump of the small round vial. His heart jumped.

He sat back against the wall and took a deep breath, puffing his chest out as much as he could – he had to get his hands loose, but the ropes were magical. They tightened and loosened around his breathing.

But his hands were trapped against his chest, and…maybe…

He had been focusing so hard on getting the ropes off that he hadn't even tried to pull a hand out. 

He breathed in deeply, sticking out his chest as much as he could. As he let the air out again, one hand kept pressure against the rope as if he was still holding his breath.

It worked! With one hand pushing the rope out, the other could slide down a little. He moved it as far as he could, awkward against the position his arms were in and the fact that he was so cramped from not having moved in…however long he'd been stuck there. 

It took a few very long minutes of deep breaths and hands shifting inch by slow inch, but finally with one last push the bottom of his arm came free from the lowest part of the rope.

He resisted the urge to shout out in triumph. His whole arm was starting to do that weird pins-and-needles thing now that it was free, and his shoulder was sending a deep ache through him.

Still, he was triumphant as he wiggled and managed to reach his pocket. He silently thanked his brothers for stretching the jeans out so they were too loose by the time they were handed down to him. Made the pocket easier to get to.

At long last he felt the cool hard touch of glass, and his fingers closed around the bottle. He pulled it out and looked at it happily.

He had a half an arm free, and a bottle of Quietus. He had absolutely no idea what he could possibly do with that to get himself out, but it was more than he had had before.

He settled back with a grin and waited for her to reapperate, feeling something a little better than terror.

***

Hermione was standing over the bed with a strange smile when Neville woke up. "Hullo," she said quietly, glancing at the other bed. 

He followed her gaze and saw Harry was still sleeping. He sat up and stretched his arms slowly. "Is anything wrong?"

She shook her head and held out a roll of parchment. "Our OWLs came today," she said with an ironic smile. "I had actually forgotten all about them. I was about to leave if you want to get back to sleep."

Neville glanced out the window and saw the sun was bright. It was probably much later than he normally slept. He sighed to himself. "We should get up, I guess. Harry will want to know about the OWLs, anyway."

She nodded. "I'll leave you alone to get dressed. I'll just leave these here." She set down the parchment she'd been holding out to him, and another one, on the table between the beds. "You must come down, though. I'm dying to know how everyone did." She smiled warmly before turning and going to the door. 

Neville stretched again, feeling stiff. Last night had been better than the nights before, when he'd gotten no sleep until he'd passed out for an hour from exhaustion. Last night he slept. Probably thanks to Harry being there. Listening to someone else breathe in the room with him had a greater effect than he's thought. 

He glanced at Harry, at his wild hair tousled on the pillow. He looked really young when he was asleep, without his glasses. There was something sort of cute about it. 

He smiled to himself, but it faded fast. He couldn't hold a smile lately. Not since Ron…

Neville sighed and stood. He shot a look at the rolled parchment waiting for him, but turned away. He could only handle so many bad thoughts at one time.

***

Ron's eyes shut slowly, and try as he might he couldn't get them open again. He was exhausted, and as badly as he wanted to stay awake, his body just wasn't cooperating anymore. 

Of course, because he had that kind of luck, the moment his mind started drifting towards sleep there was a faint pop in the air.

And then a high voice. "Little bo-oy."

His eyes shot open, and despite the bottle clutched in his hand, he was suddenly plunged back into fear.

She stood there in her black robe, her wand held loosely in one hand. She was smiling, which was the scariest expression she had, really. "Good morning, little boy."

Morning. He lost track in that room. He wasn't even sure how long… "How long have I been here?" he asked, and he was surprised at how rough his voice sounded. 

She laughed cheerfully. "Not quite long enough." She waved her wand towards him.

His eyes slammed shut, and he braced himself. 

"_Cibatus_ appareo._"_

His eyes opened slowly when nothing happened, and he looked around in alarm.

There was a small plate of sandwiches sitting in front of him, next to a glass of water. 

He relaxed slowly. It wasn't the first time she had done that spell, of course. But he was well-trained by then to immediately cringe at the sight of her wand. 

He sat back, turning red. This was humiliating. She made food appear and then sat down by him and fed him. It was…

It was perfect.

His heart jerked and started beating harder, and he had to fight to sit still. His knees were blocking his loose arm from her view. The bottle's cap he had already loosened with his teeth that night.

Whatever was going to happen, it had to be now. 

He stopped thinking as she approached. He didn't have a plan in mind, but maybe just by surprising her, he could…

God, he didn't know. But something was better than nothing, right?

She crouched down surprisingly gracefully and took the glass. "Poor little boy must be thirsty."

He leaned forward and drank greedily as she held the glass out.

She took it away way too quickly. "Now now. Slowly."

He clasped the bottle in his hand as she reached for the plate of sandwiches, and with his thumb he knocked the loose cap off. His entire body tensed.

She turned her wide grin to him. "You'll be glad to hear I've heard from the brat."

He hesitated at that. "Neville?"

"Just as I suspected, he's just as self-sacrificing as his idiotic parents. And Dumbledore is more than happy to get rid of him, it seems. 

Ron's thoughts spun. She was wrong. Dumbledore would never let Neville give himself to her. Would he? 

It had to be some sort of trick. Some sort of plan. They were coming for him.

He clasped the bottle, doubt suddenly moving through him. If they were coming for him, than making her angry with the potion was pointless. 

She laughed to herself and lifted a sandwich. "Have a bite, little boy."

He obeyed.

"Now. Since everything seems to be going according to plan, it seems to me like you have a few things you can tell me. I've been more than hospitable, I think. I feed you, I give you water, I've cleaned up after you. I'm also doing you a bigger favor than you know, not taking you to my Lord."

Ron shivered a bit suddenly. You-Know-Who. It seemed amazing to him that he hadn't been worried about You-Know-Who this whole time. LeStrange seemed like a big enough monster without considering who she worked for. 

He swallowed down fear. "Why…"

"Why haven't I?" She fed him another bite and grinned. "Because this isn't for him. It's for me."

Ron stared at her.

"Longbottom means nothing to my Lord. He's just another Muggle-loving brat. You're just the same, I imagine. Still, my Lord wouldn't be very happy to know I was taking prisoners and not telling Him. So consider yourself lucky."

Ron chewed slowly, his thoughts racing. You-Know-Who didn't know he was there. If he did find out, he would be angry at LeStrange. Could Ron use that somehow?

"I think I should have something to take back to my Lord, though. Something that will put me more into His favor. Something you could give me."

Ron swallowed. "What? I don't have anything to—"

"You have everything, little boy." She set the sandwich down half-eaten and regarded him. "You have Dumbledore. And I think you have Harry Potter as well. It won't surprise you to learn that my Lord is very interested in getting his hands on Mr. Potter."

"I don't know where they are," he said instantly.

She just laughed. "We know Potter isn't with his Muggle family. He was picked up by aurors. You know where they are. You almost told me your first day here. I was willing to settle for sending messages to Hogwarts that day, but I think maybe you should give me more now."

Ron shook his head quickly. "They won't be there. Wherever I think they are, they won't still be there. They'll be worried about me telling you. They'll move Harry somewhere safe."

LeStrange regarded him thoughtfully.

Ron pasted the most sincere look on his face that he possibly could.

She grinned again suddenly. "You know, Weasleys tend to turn this unflattering shade of pink when they lie."

Ron could feel the heat in his face and cursed his fair skin. "I'm not lying."

"You are. And you're very bad at it." She reached down and picked up her wand. "It's alright, of course. We have all the time in the world. I'm sure your Longbottom friend and Dumbledore are waiting breathlessly for my response. So I want to make sure the message is a good one."

Ron swallowed, angry at himself for how fast he let himself become terrified of her. 

"Fortunately I never promised them to return you unharmed. Although the _Cruciatus_ doesn't leave scars. Not physically, anyway." She waved her wand with a smile. "How long do you think you're going to last, little boy?"

Ron's free hand clenched into a fist, and he felt the small bottle he was still clutching. He had to give Dumbledore more time to find him.

He was probably going to pay for this.

He tensed and got ready to attack.

***

Author's Notes – Heh. Cliffhanger. Fun, huh? 

Sparkysparkles – Amen, sister! Ron is number one! Ron haters of the world can kiss me arse! G And YES, I think there should be a Neville button. I can't find any of the Neville fics on here, and I know there has to be at least a few of them. I can't even label this as a Neville story. Anyway, thanks! Hope I'm not boring you yet. 

Arynnl – Heh. I hope this chapter is just as excellent as well. Thanks! I'm really glad you like it! 

Sarah – Don't worry. Neville's gonna have more than his share of angst, I'm sure. It's just Ron's turn right now. Yeah, Harry thinks everything is about him, but then again, it usually is. You can't blame him, really, for misunderstanding. 

Mathais-8888 – Another Ron fan! Whee! And a slash fan! The best kind there is! Thanks for reviewing this time! I know what it's like to not have time, don't worry. Thank you so much, you're bloody nice. I hope you like the rest of it as much as the first part.

Cygna-hime – I'm only mean because I care. You always hurt the ones you love, right? Because then you can patch them up again. Thank you! Wow. I'm glad you like the story so much! I've been witing fanfic for a while, so I guess I've had enough practice to not be a terrible writer. LOL. And you're right, Harry was a git in OotP. Absolutely. And yes, underdog characters are always the best! They're the ones I love writing about. Hell, I wouldn't have gotten into this fandom if it hadn't been for Ron. Neville's just a lovely little bonus. G Thanks so much! Hope you like the rest. 

PadawanMage – Hi again, honey! G Glad you liked the globe. I'm awkward about inventing magical things on my own. Harry isn't all bad, he's just grown used to thinking the entire world revolves around him. He's forgotten that some things aren't about him. Voldemort might have a say in this before I'm done with Bellatrix. I don't want to spoil anything for you, but personally, I don't think she's going to make it out of this story alive and well. Harry and Neville need to learn to understand each other, I think. They're more alike than they realize. Thanks as ever for your wonderful review. You're the best!


	16. Plans Fail, Along Comes a Malfoy

Hermione smiled at them as they entered the kitchen. "Well? How did you do?"

"We didn't open them yet."

"You didn't?" Hermione gaped at Harry, as if wondering how he could possibly have restrained himself.

Harry shrugged. "We thought we could all do it together. For moral support. Though I guess you don't need it. Let me guess how you must have done."

She flushed and rolled her eyes. "I didn't do perfectly, I'll have you know."

He made a face. "Depends on what you mean by perfect. You didn't fail anything, did you?"

"Well. No. Of course not. But…"

"Of course not," Harry repeated with a side glance at Neville.

Neville smiled, fingering his own parchment nervously.

"Those of us who aren't brilliant will open ours together." Harry sat down, breaking the seal on the parchment and unrolling it. 

Neville copied the gesture, sitting heavily down across from him.

Hermione stood the silence for about ten seconds. "Well?"

Harry stretched his parchment across to her. "I passed most of it, anyway."

"You failed something? Oh, Harry, what…" She scanned the scroll, then made a face. "Oh. Divination. You failed Divination?"

"Probably everyone who took it failed. We didn't have Trelawney grading the OWLs, remember. We had someone who actually knew something about the subject."

She sighed. "I'm more glad than ever I dropped that class. Oh, but Harry! You got a lot of Outstandings! Defense Against the Dark Arts, Charms, Magical Creatures, Transfigurations! That's wonderful! And an E in Potions! Snape will be so disappointed!"

Harry laughed. "Yeah. He'll actually have to teach me next year."

"Me as well." Hermione grinned.

There was a pause, and two pairs of eyes turned to Neville.

He sat there looking at his scroll, his face unreadable.

Harry nudged him with his foot under the table. "Neville? How did you do?"

Neville looked up, his eyes round. "I…I got an E in Potions too."

Hermione squealed happily.

Harry grinned. "Brilliant! You can take the class with us! Oh, to see Snape's face when he realizes!"

Neville smiled, looking as if he was in shock. "I passed almost everything."

"Aha! Failed Divination, didn't you?" Harry said in triumph. 

Neville grinned. "No, actually. I got an A."

Hermione laughed.

"I got a D in Astronomy, though. And then As in most everything else."

"An O in Herbology, of course," Hermione guessed.

He nodded with a smile. "And Care of Magical Creatures. I'll have to thank Hagrid."

"Me as well." Harry sighed happily. "Well, Hermione? Show us yours. Let's see all your Os in a pretty little row."

She grabbed her parchment from the counter. "I told you they aren't all Os. I got Es as well."

"You must be devastated." Harry took the parchment, but a sudden thought hit him, hard. A face that wasn't there celebrating with them.

He frowned instantly. "Did Ron's come as well?"

The light spirit around the table vanished. Neville dropped his parchment, looking instantly pale and guilty, as if upset he had smiled while Ron was still missing.

Hermione nodded. "Mrs. Weasley took it."

Silence fell.

Harry awkwardly rolled his parchment up, his eyes going distant.

Neville stood and left the kitchen, leaving his parchment behind probably without thinking. 

***

LeStrange jumped back in surprise, hands wiping the bluish liquid off her face. Shock filled her eyes as she gaped at Ron.

Ron scrambled awkwardly to his feet, holding the bottle. There were still a few drops in there. He ducked his head and lifted his hand as far as he could, and managed to grasp the mouth of the bottle with his teeth. He tilted his head back and felt the few drops slide into his throat. 

He opened his mouth and let the bottle fall, fierce defiance running through him as he glared at her.

She looked confused, then lifted her wand and pointed it. Her mouth moved, and he could see the word she tried to speak easily – she'd said it enough the past few days. _Crucio__._

But no sound came out, and Ron grinned in triumph. He would have to remember to thank Fred and George for making a potion that worked on contact, not just by being swallowed. 

LeStrange raised a hand to her throat in shock, moving her mouth furiously. She looked just like that painting of Mrs. Black, Ron saw with amusement. 

He let his arm drop and stood there, victorious. Neither of them could talk now. Not for twenty four hours. Dumbledore had a full day to find him, and there was no way she could question him, or curse him.

Her mouth shut after a moment, and her eyes came up and pierced Ron.

He stepped back despite his victory – there was murder in those eyes. 

She moved towards him, first lifting her wand and then grimacing and throwing it aside. 

Ron backed up until he hit the wall. He was helpless, numb and aching and still tied tightly. Plus, she was mad. She kept coming, her hands raised towards his throat.

He moved suddenly, using the wall to launch himself out and at her, shoulder forward as if he were a Chaser about to strike a bludger out of play.

He hit her hard and lost his balance, tumbling face-first to the ground. He automatically rolled onto his back, feet scrambling to get him away from her.

She was doubled over, hands on her ribs where his shoulder had caught her. Her mouth was moving, and if she had still had her voice she would be cursing up a storm, Ron had no doubt.

He pushed himself back until his head hit the wall, and he waited, glaring and petrified. 

Her head lifted, her eyes locked on him. She straightened slowly, rubbing at her ribs. Time seemed to slow down. Ron just knew that she was going to hurt him. But it was worth it. He wasn't going to answer her questions and put anyone into danger. 

She looked around the room, moving frighteningly slow, until she spotted her wand. 

He cursed to himself – should have grabbed it. Not that he could have done anything with it. Maybe snapped it in half. That would serve the mad cow right. 

She grasped the wand and turned to stare at him.

He braced himself.

She vanished.

***

There was silence in the Black living room for most of the afternoon.

Hermione sat folding and unfolding her OWLs parchment. Neville could tell she felt conflicted. She was proud of herself, as she should be, but it felt wrong to be celebrating anything right now. 

Neville sat on his own, looking to the door in hope and fear. It had been days since Dumbledore had sent the agreement to LeStrange to trade Neville for Ron.

Strange how abrupt it seemed to get what he was waiting for so suddenly late that afternoon. The front door he was watching swung open and Dumbledore strode into the house followed by Remus Lupin and Mad-Eye Moody.

Neville sat up in instant alarm. "Professor—"

"Neville. We need to have a word with you."

Harry, Hermione and Ginny spoke at once.

"Sir, did something happen?"

"What's going on?"

"It's about Ron. Tell all of us what's—"

Dumbledore held up a hand, smiling kindly. "Please, please. We've had no news about young Ronald, I'm sorry to say."

"You mean LeStrange hasn't even sent another message?" Harry sounded alarmed.

"We haven't heard back from our last message to her, no."

"What's going on then?" Ginny demanded. 

It was Moody who answered, his voice sharp. "Dumbledore said he wanted to talk to Longbottom, so that's what's going on. Now kindly leave us to it."

Three pairs of eyes now glared daggers at Moody.

Neville stood up nervously. "We can go to the kitchen. Sir."

Dumbledore moved forward instantly. He clapped Neville on the shoulder and steered him. "Right you are. Children, please give us a few minutes. We won't leave you in the dark for long."

Neville was led into the kitchen without seeing their reactions. Moody followed them in. Lupin must have stayed out there with Harry and the girls.

Neville faced Dumbledore in fear the moment the door was shut. "What's happening?"

Dumbledore was looking around the kitchen, surprised no doubt to see the dirty dishes and messy attempts the kids had made making their own lunch. "Wherever is Molly?"

Neville frowned. "She hasn't come out of her room much lately."

"Ah. I must go speak to her before we leave. Poor woman doesn't need strain like this."

Neville grimaced. Nobody needed strain like this, he replied silently.

Dumbledore turned back to him. "Neville. We have worked out a bit of a plan."

Neville's eyes grew wide. "You need me to do something?"

"Understand, young man, this isn't the sort of thing you need to agree on lightly. There is some danger involved with what we'll be asking from you. You need to—"

Neville cut Moody off fast. "I'll do it."

Moody pursed his lips in disapproval. "Longbottom."

"I don't care how dangerous it is. I don't care what might happen. If it will get Ron back, I'll do it." Neville met Dumbledore's eyes steadily. "Let me do it, sir."

Dumbledore smiled. "Very well. That was easier to settle than I'd feared. Now, let's go and have a talk with your friends out there, shall we?"

***

After the adrenaline of the fight he'd had with LeStrange, the boredom of the hours that followed it seemed surreal. 

Ron dozed off at first, confident at least that whenever she came back she wouldn't be able to wake him with a _crucio, like all the other times. _

But sleep was still hard to come by. He had made LeStrange furious, and that couldn't be good. Now whenever she got back she was going to be vile. Time passed slowly, as it had since he had been shut into that horrid room with no doors or windows or anything. It was quiet and lonely, and he couldn't even listen to the sound of his own voice to break the monotony. 

He really, really hoped Dumbledore was looking for him.

When LeStrange finally returned, Ron was ready for anything. At least he told himself he was.

Of course, the one thing he _wasn't ready for was the one thing that actually happened._

Someone apparated in behind her.

Someone with piercing silver eyes and long, white blond hair. Someone who was supposed to be locked in Azkaban.

Someone who seemed very glad to see Ron there. Who smiled in recognition, as if he'd just been given the best birthday present ever. "Well, well, well," a cold voice drawled.

If Ron had his voice, he would have groaned. Things had just gone from really, really bad to much, much worse.

"Mr. Weasley. How very nice to see you again."

He snorted silently. Nice. Sure. 

Lucius Malfoy glanced at LeStrange. "I'll ask no questions about why he's here, or how he cursed you. Whatever you've been doing behind our Lord's back is your own affair. And the gift you've just given is worth more than your life."

LeStrange got a weird look on her face, and it turned to a glare as Malfoy turned back to Ron. 

"Your father must be frantic about you, boy. How long have you been here? I'm afraid Bellatrix hasn't been very vocal."

Ron smirked and stared at him silently. 

Malfoy's face clouded. He lifted his wand and flicked it without a word.

Ron winced reflexively, even before the curse hit. It wasn't _crucio__ – it knit his stomach into a tight, burning knot that seared him and then was gone. _

"Answer, boy."

Ron opened his mouth and moved his lips silently to clue Malfoy in. 

Malfoy sneered. "I see. Cursed yourself as well, did you? Just like a Weasley. Not even competent in basic silencing spells."

Ron glared, but he was used to Malfoys being derisive – he was able to hold his temper in check. Which was good, considering just how much trouble he was already in.

But something was happening inside him. Maybe it was the long days and nights of being trapped in that boring cell of a room. Maybe it was all the _crucio_s he'd been put under. Maybe it was dealing with LeStrange, being fed and laughed at, pissing on himself because he was bound and could do nothing else, and relying on her to clean him up. It was humiliating and frightening, and he was getting sick to death of it.

He was scared for Neville, scared for himself. Scared of so many things that it was starting to be hard for him to even feel the fear.

He just didn't care anymore. He wanted to be home with his mum, with his family, with Neville. And until that happened, he was fed up with having to care so much. No more fear. No more worrying. He was too exhausted. Too full, as if there was so much emotion inside of him that it all compressed and he became numb to it. 

He faced Lucius Malfoy with his chin up and his chest out. He was a prisoner – just a skinny, tall, stupid Weasley tied in magical ropes and silenced thanks to a joke potion. But he wasn't going to be cowed anymore by these loonies who were so thick they'd grabbed him when they wanted Neville. 

He wasn't scared anymore, even though Malfoy had a functioning wand and full use of his voice, and was more than capable of putting him through worse than LeStrange had. Even then, he wasn't scared.

He smiled to himself. Knowing but not caring that it would anger Malfoy, he leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes. He saw Neville in his mind, and his smile grew wide. 

***

Neville knocked on the door lightly. "Mrs. Weasley?"

It opened after a moment, revealing Mrs. Weasley's tired face. Her eyes were red and puffy, but she smiled faintly and let him in. "Neville. Dumbledore has told me he plans to rescue Ron."

Neville nodded. "It's a bit dangerous, he says, and since we aren't sure how LeStrange will want to trade him, it'll be mostly unplanned. But he'll have the best aurors, and he'll be there himself."

She smiled and reached out, smoothing his hair with fondness in her eyes. As if he were another of her sons. "Dumbledore also tells me that you're willing to put yourself in harm's way."

Neville nodded, his throat tightening at her gentle, motherly touch. Was that what it felt like to… He shook his head to clear it. "I'll do anything."

"You're a good friend to Ron," she replied.

He hesitated. Ron was going to tell her about them, but not until later. It wouldn't be right to tell her without him there. Now wasn't the best time, anyway. Was it? 

She went on talking before he could decide. "He's been much happier since you arrived. I'm not sure what sort of mother you must think I am, with all those things at Hogwarts going on and me not even realizing. But I do care about my son more than anyone could know. I see that he's unhappy. I didn't see how much, but…Ron unfortunately is more like me than his father. He hides himself, and he does it well considering how awful a liar he is."

Neville smiled at that. "Yeah. He does. I wish he didn't, but…"

"But he's been better, and it's because you were there. That surprised me. I didn't know you two were very close at all."

"We weren't," Neville replied somewhat wryly. "Not until this summer. We were friends, of course, but he was always off with Harry. They never had time for anyone else, really."

"Harry." Her smile faded. "Ron cares about Harry deeply. So much that I'm still surprised by it."

"He's very loyal." Neville smiled to himself. It was one of the things he loved most about Ron; knowing that once he was in Ron's heart, Ron would do anything for him. Because he did care deeply, and he was quick to jump in front of his friends and shield them from anything.

Mrs. Weasley regarded him thoughtfully. "You like him. As more than a friend."

His heart jumped with surprise. He flushed instantly, looking down at his hands. "I…"

"Does he know?" Her voice was quiet.

Neville swallowed. His hands were trembling, he saw. He didn't know how to answer.

Mrs. Weasley turned away, mercifully, and went to the chest of drawers against the wall. There were knick knacks cluttered on every available surface in the room, and the chest was no different. She reached out and lifted a framed picture and stood looking down at it. "Does he feel the same?"

"He…" Neville took a deep breath and said a quick, desperate prayer. "Yes," he said after a moment. "He does."

She tensed and turned to face him. The picture stayed in her hands, but her eyes were locked on him. "Just this summer, though. That's when it started."

He nodded, wishing desperately for her to react well. 

She moved slowly to him, and held the picture out silently.

He took it with still-shaking hands. Looking at it meant not facing those unreadable eyes of hers, so he was grateful.

The moment he saw the picture his worry abated and he smiled despite himself.

Ron had been a beautiful child. He was probably two or three in the picture, and his face was lit up like a sun. His hair was thinner, wispy, still bright red. His eyes looked round and enormous. His mouth was split into a wide, innocent, sunny grin. He was holding some strange bird with feathers – a chicken, maybe; Neville had never seen one away from a dinner table. The bird was almost as big as he was, but he was clasping it close to him. 

As Neville watched, the boy in the picture laughed and held the struggling bird. His eyes shone brightly, his face already dotted with freckles but not as many as he now had. 

He was absolutely beautiful. He looked like the sort of child that never frowned or cried.

Mrs. Weasley spoke softly. "He was like that since he was born. Always laughing. Always fascinated by everything."

Neville laughed quietly as the bird finally got free of the arms holding it. Ron's smile never wavered. He watched it flap its feathers as it scurried away out of frame, and he laughed in delight and got to his feet to follow.

Ron. God. Neville wanted Ron back with him so badly it hurt him. Moody had been stupid to think he wouldn't go along with a plan because it was dangerous. 

Neville would do anything for Ron. Anything at all. 

When the picture was taken from him he folded his arms around himself, feeling sort of cold and lonely. 

"As time passed he lost that, though, and I never knew why." Mrs. Weasley smiled at the picture, love in her eyes, before replacing it on the drawers. "I think it was a lot of things. Seeing other families and realizing how little we really had. Realizing how hard it would be living up to his brothers. Not getting the attention he deserved from me, because there were so many children I had to balance." She sighed. 

Neville bit his lip, wondering if he should say anything. Was she upset about them? She wasn't giving him any clues.

"I think he's the most sensitive of all my children. It may sound awful to say it, but he was the one I most wished I could give the world to. Not that I don't adore my other children. But seeing his face fall when he wanted some little toy that we couldn't afford…it was horrid. I watched that happy little boy get more and more serious. I would change that in a moment if I could."

Her eyes moved to him again suddenly, and he tensed.

She smiled sadly. "Sometimes when he looks at you he smiles the way he used to."

Neville breathed in and held it.

"Please don't hurt him, Neville. I know you're a good boy, and you wouldn't…but you're both so young, and he can get hurt so easily."

Neville swallowed and let himself breathe again. He met her eyes, and everything he felt for Ron, already bubbling close to the surface, he let himself show plainly. He spoke sincerely and hoped she would see it. "I would never do anything to hurt him. I would die first."

She nodded, her eyes going suddenly bright. "Good. That's…good. Alright, Neville. You…you run along now. It's getting late, and we can talk later."

He could tell she was close to crying. He just nodded and went for the door. He hesitated in the hall and looked back before shutting the door. "Good night, Mrs. Weasley."

She smiled weakly. "Sleep well, Neville dear."

He moved down the hall slowly, not sure whether he should feel relieved or just sad.

****

Author's Notes….

Hi all! Sorry about the delay in this chapter! Wasn't too long, I hope. 

Sarah – Yeah, that's what I figured. I wanted to show Harry as being sort of self-focused and presumptuous, but no more than anyone would be in his shoes. Glad you understand that. J

SparkySparkles – Not bored, huh? I guess I'll take that as a compliment. Heh. Before we co petitioning on Neville's behalf, we should maybe just email the list owners and see if they'll add him a button in. In fact, I think I'll do that right after I post this. Probably wouldn't hurt for others to do it, too.

Miste – Glad you liked! No worries about reviews. I don't demand any sort of consistency from you. I'm just grateful you send me feedback at all. G I hope this chapter answered your questions. I hope it made you ask more questions, though. Ron's not out of the fire yet. Hee.

Jillian – Why, thank you. I will definitely take 'Rowling-esque' to be a compliment. Unfortunately the Quietus didn't do Ron much good in the big scheme of things. And its place in this story is not over yet. 

Lady Wolfshead – No worries, mate! I'm glad you're still reading! Fifteen chapters in and people are still paying attention, so I guess I'm doing something right. Anyway…I'm glad you like LeStrange. I didn't want her too over-the-top, but she really sort of is in the books anyway. And Harry…yeah, he's a hard one to pin down. Nice, but not. It's odd. Yes, I hurt Ron. And I'll hurt Neville. But it's okay, see. I hurt them so I can heal them. It's a very loving thing, really. No…no, really. G

Loonylass – Glad you like it! Thanks! And yeah, Neville rocks! Especially after this last book, when Rowling gives him a bit of backbone! I adore him, and I'm glad other people do, too.

Arynnl – Sorry! I'm not quite up to posting five chapters at once. Well…I could, but the updates would be much further apart. J As to your question…well, is it wrong of me to enjoy _writing a fic where Ron is in pain? Trust me, I won't leave him hurting. I'll make him better. I usually do. Most of the time. Heheh. Thanks so much for what you said! I really do appreciate it a lot. _


	17. Escape? Escape!

"It's late." Harry sat up and stretched. "We ought to get some sleep, in case they get the message from LeStrange tomorrow."

Ginny nodded and let her feet drop from the coffee table and stood up. "Thanks for the talk, Harry. You're a pretty good distraction."

He flushed and wasn't sure why. They had only wasted the past couple of hours blathering about their friends at Hogwarts, and the classes she'd be taking next year. Nothing important at all. Nothing they hadn't talked about already since he'd been there.

But she was right. It was a distraction. "You, too," he replied with a smile. 

They moved to the stairs and started climbing slowly.

She stopped halfway up and turned back to him. "I want to say something, and I'm going to blurt it out now that I'm tired and not thinking as clearly as usual."

His eyebrows flew up, and his hand tightened on the railing. "Okay."

She flushed, but spoke evenly. "I'm really glad you're here. And not just for your sake, though I know you're glad to be away from the Muggles. I'm glad you're here for my own sake. Because I like you. I mean…you know. I don't dislike you. I don't mean that I…" She sighed and turned, instantly moving up the stairs again. "I don't know why I bother to open my mouth sometimes. Bloody nonsense."

Harry followed her slowly, smiling uncontrollably. 

She was still grumbling as she headed for the door to her bedroom.

He stopped her by grabbing her arm gently. "Ginny?"

She looked back with something like apprehension in her eyes. 

He smiled. "I…uh. Well, thanks for not letting me go on being a prat. You…well. You made me see what's been right in front of me." He studied her thoughtfully.

Her eyes widened, but she pulled away fast. "Okay. I'm going to go now." She moved fast and vanished into the room, all nervous energy.

Harry grinned to himself, thinking it odd that after all the growing up Ginny had done, she still ran from him like she had when she was ten.

It was sort of cute. 

He couldn't shake the smile as he went into the room he now shared with Neville. 

It vanished once he was inside, though, and saw Neville huddled on his bed, head in his hands.

He went to the bed instantly. He felt a lot less awkward with Neville since they'd started sharing the room. "Hey. Did something happen? What's wrong?"

Neville shook his head and looked up, his eyes red. "I keep seeing him."

"Seeing…Ron?" Harry sat down beside him, touching his shoulder in support.

Neville sniffed and nodded. "I have this dream. Where he's in St Mungo's, right next to my parents."

Harry breathed in, feeling a sharp measure of sympathy. Yeah, Ron was Harry's best friend, but obviously Neville felt close to him. They had to be close for this to be tearing Neville apart so badly. 

Neville wiped his eyes. "I keep seeing him…and he's as blank as they are. And I can't see him like that! He looks at me and doesn't know me, just like…them, and…"

Harry moved his arm around Neville loosely. "That won't happen," he said firmly. "Ron won't…"

Neville shook his head, looking up with burning eyes. "My parents were aurors. And they were good at it. They were really strong. If they could lose their minds, Ron could as well. I'm so scared, Harry."

Harry hugged him then, trying hard not to think about Ron sitting in some hospital bed with vacant eyes and a blank face. "I'm scared as well," he confessed. "I love him, you know? He's the best friend I've ever had."

Neville pulled back, his eyes gleaming strangely. "I love him, too," he replied, quiet.

Harry smiled tightly and patted his back. "We should get some sleep. We're both tired from the last few nights." He sighed. "Maybe if we're in the same room our nightmares will stay away, eh?"

Neville was still looking at him, searching almost. "Ron slept with me. That helped more than anything."

Harry's brow furrowed. "Slept with you? You mean in the same bed?"

Neville nodded.

Harry thought about that. "Probably comforting. Ron and I did that a few nights, years ago, the first time I stayed at the Burrow." He smiled. "And he would stay with me sometimes at Hogwarts, though he never went to sleep there. It did help."

"It did. I miss it." Neville looked away from Harry. "I miss Ron."

"Well, then." Harry stood up, going to his bed and grabbing the pillow. "We should try that. It might help us both."

Neville blinked in surprise as Harry dropped his pillow next to Neville's on the mattress. "Harry. You don't understand."

Harry peeled off his shirt and reached for his pajamas. "What? You don't want…"

"I love him. And he loves me. And we slept in the same bed."

Harry blinked. He stopped dead, pajama shirt in his hands. He stared.

Neville frowned. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have told you like that."

Harry stared some more.

Neville flushed. "Harry, it's…"

Harry spoke mechanically. "It's not true. Ron would have told me."

Neville sighed and looked away from him. "It only happened this summer."

"He still would have—"

"And when did you give him a chance to?" Neville snapped back.

Harry stood there, frozen. Ron and Neville were…but…

Ron? And _Neville?_

Harry couldn't get his mind around it. 

Neville looked at him again, his eyes swirling with emotion. "Harry. It's not…the whole thing was really strange. It's not like we've been creeping around deliberately keeping secrets. We've had an odd time figuring out just how we felt."

Harry shook his head. Not Ron. Not his best friend, who fought with Hermione so much Harry was sure they would end up together. Not the Ron who had blushing late night conversations with Harry about kissing girls. 

Neville kept talking after a minute. "It's not…it's not a big deal, Harry. Not really."

"Not a big deal?" Harry blinked slowly, his mind a fog. "You're telling me Ron is gay?"

Neville shrugged. "I'm telling you we're boyfriends."

"But…Neville! It's absurd! Ron isn't…you're a boy!"

Neville blinked, his brow furrowing. "Does that matter?"

Harry gaped at him. He clenched his fists around the shirt he held, then remembered it and jerked it on quickly. "Of course it matters! He never said anything about being gay!"

"I don't understand, Harry."

Harry glared at him, out of sorts and upset about it. He knew he had been keeping Ron at a distance lately, but to not know something that important? He didn't believe it. "You're a boy. And Ron's a boy. And you're together. That's what you're telling me."

Neville stared at him, obviously confused. "I don't…does it matter that we're boys?"

"Of _course_ it…" Harry trailed off suddenly as something occurred to him.

The same thought occurred to Neville a moment later, and his eyes widened. "Oh. I guess Muggles think it's bad when two boys love each other."

"Well…" Harry frowned, sitting hesitantly on the bed. "I…you mean wizards don't?"

Neville smiled hesitantly. "Harry. Wizards have married werewolves. Giants have married merpeople. Veelas marry witches. Why should we care if a boy wizard likes another boy wizard?"

Harry sat in silence. God, after six years in the wizarding world he thought he had a handle on the differences between wizards and muggles. He tried to wrap his brain around the idea. "Why didn't you tell anyone, then? About you and Ron?"

Neville shrugged. "As I said, we weren't very sure how we felt until the last couple of weeks. And anyway, we're still pretty young. We were worried Ron's mum would make us stay in separate rooms. And my Gran may not have let Ron sleep over at all." He frowned suddenly. "Though I guess that might have been best."

Ron. And Neville. It still seemed insane to Harry, but he forced himself to relax. It wasn't so unusual, apparently, to wizards. 

Neville studied him curiously. "I know you were raised as a Muggle. Are you…is this going to be too strange for you?"

Harry couldn't answer. Was it? 

God, the Dursleys had had a thing or two to say about gays before. Vernon especially would go on about disgusting displays and randy behavior and how sick it was. Vernon and Petunia both were of the belief that anything outside of traditional couples was sick. Men with men were sick, and different races together were sick, and if they were too far apart in age they were sick, and…

He blinked suddenly, halting his thoughts.

When, he asked himself in surprise, had he _ever let Vernon and Petunia Dursley's opinions about anything affect his own?_

Vernon and Petunia thought magic was sick. They thought Harry was sick.

Harry smiled faintly at that. It might take him a bit of time to get used to it, but…

"No," he answered slowly. "Not too strange. Just a bit strange. I imagine I'll get used to the idea."

Neville smiled back hesitantly. "Good."

Harry looked down at his pillow laying there beside Neville's and reached for it to move back to his bed.

Neville's eyes clouded over, and he looked away.

Harry frowned at that and held the pillow. Honestly, he wasn't sure he wanted to sleep alone either. Those nights with Ron had been nice, and not because of any sort of thing Ron did. Just having him there and close, and knowing Ron cared.

It wouldn't feel quite the same with Neville, but it would probably do him some sort of good. And Neville as well. And they _were_ friends, after all, despite everything. 

He cleared his throat awkwardly. "We…well. I mean, just because you and Ron are…well. It doesn't mean I can't sleep in the same bed as you, does it? We can still help each other sleep. Just without any sort of snogging or anything."

Neville brightened instantly. "Yeah?"

Harry shrugged. "Can't we?"

"Of course!" Neville laughed shakily. "It isn't as if I want to snog you. Not at all. I mean…not even the slightest bit, you know?"

Harry held up a hand, dropping the pillow. "Okay, you don't have to make a speech on how unappealing I am, Neville."

Neville giggled and moved to one side, giving Harry room to lay down. "You're not unappealing, Harry. You're just not Ron."

The lights went out, Harry found a comfortable position, and everything went quiet.

Well, everything but his thoughts. 

He cleared his throat quietly after a few minutes had passed. "Is it…what's it like?"

Neville moved a bit beside him. "What?"

"Uh. You and Ron…you've kissed or something, haven't you?"

A sigh. "Yeah."

Harry's eyebrows flew up. Neville sounded downright dreamy. "Uh. So it was nice, then? Like kissing a girl."

A giggle. "I wouldn't know. I've never kissed a girl."

"Oh." Harry turned on his side. "I have."

"Yeah?" Neville turned as well to face him. "Cho Chang, right?"

"Yeah."

"Well. What was that like?"

Harry made a face but smiled, remembering Ron asking the same thing. "Wet," he answered, same as he had when Ron asked. "And a bit uncomfortable."

"Oh." Neville paused. "Well, in that case, no. It's not like snogging a girl at all. I mean…wet, maybe, a bit. But only when he…um. I mean, when we…"

Harry squinted his eyes, but it was too dark to see Neville. He imagined the boy was probably bright red, though. "Yeah?" he prodded with a grin.

Neville cleared his throat. "Um. It's just that the last time we…there was sort of this part where…oh, God. Um, tongues were involved," he said finally in a rush.

Harry's mouth dropped open. He made a face. "Tongues? Was that disgusting?"

Neville sighed again. "I thought it would be. You know, just thinking about it before. But it really wasn't. At all. It was nice."

"Wow." Harry rolled back on his back. This definitely needed some thinking about. 

***

Ron felt the wall at his side, the floor pressing into his back. He felt those damned ropes cutting into him. 

He felt every hair on his head, every inch of skin, every vein, every cell, every fingernail. Everything was alive and aware, the memory of feeling it all burned away and then reformed clear in his mind.

Even as Lucius set about to do it all over again.

It wasn't pain – the pain was over, and about to start, but not there at that moment. It was that he had felt pain all over, on every tiny bit of him, and it had left him aware of himself in a way he had never been before.

He never would have thought there were worse things than the _Cruciatus._ He knew now he was just naïve. 

Malfoy was smiling and talking calmly, but his voice had long ceased to be anything but a low murmur, unintelligible to Ron's ears. Behind him, watching eagerly, Bellatrix LeStrange was glowing with happiness. Her eyes were brighter than ever, her grin giddy. If she had her voice she would have been laughing the entire time.

Ron saw movement as Lucius lifted his wand again.

He had stopped thinking coherent thoughts, really. Much of what went through his mind was images. Pictures. 

Harry. Neville. His family. Hermione. Draco, for some odd reason. Hogwarts. McGonagall, Dumbledore.

Faces and memories invaded one at a time in a slow parade.

He shut his eyes against the sight of Malfoy's brittle, coldly pleased smile.

He would have given anything to be at home. Now that he knew what real pain was he would suffer it gladly to get him back to caring people.

He shut his mind to the stream of faces he'd been seeing. Instead he focused on that room at Black's house, the one he and Neville stayed in. He imagined every crack and corner, the worn and frayed carpeting, the beds. The little table. It would be dark now, because Malfoy said it was after nightfall. There would be nothing but shadows. In the bed there would be a lump under covers, snoring lightly. Neville would be nothing but a tuft of dark blond hair wrapped snugly up. Maybe shuddering in a nightmare.

The door, the one big window opposite the beds. The chest of drawers and small closet.

He could see every inch of that room. With every singly fiber of his being he wanted to be there. He could see himself there, in his mind's eye. Even with the ropes in place, barefoot and aching and trembling all over, standing there in that room, looking down at the bed.

He wished it, as he heard the drone of Malfoy's voice and felt the horrible anticipation of pain. He wished with everything in him to suddenly be away from there.

And then…

Then he could feel it. He could feel the worn, thin carpet on his back, the cool, fresh air of a room with a door and a window. Malfoy's voice was gone, and light breathing sounded over his head somewhere.

Wondering at his newfound powers of imagination, Ron was reluctant to open his eyes. 

But a sniffle and a low murmur sounded in his ear, painfully familiar, and he couldn't help himself.

He blinked up into darkness. 

He hadn't been out of the constant light of that strange room for however long he'd been gone. Days or weeks or whatever.

But it was dark, and his eyes couldn't adjust. 

He looked around blindly, managing to get himself upright with one painful effort from strained muscles.

Another low murmur turned his head, and his heart leapt and started beating fast enough to scare him.

Neville.

Fearing it was a dream – because what else could it be? – Ron struggled against his bindings and his own weak body to stand up. His arm was still only half tied, and he pushed it out in front of him awkwardly to feel for a bed or a chair or anything.

He hit the table, the small table that had sat between their beds since he got there.

Maybe this was real. But…how?

He reached clumsily for the lamp he knew was there, and turned the knob to put light into the room. His hand was shaking so badly it took him a long minute to get it on.

His eyes fell on an empty bed. Neville's bed. He turned around slowly, tears already in his eyes, and the first thing he saw was blond hair against a white pillow.

_Neville_ he said, though of course no sound came out.

His breath caught in his chest, and he felt a hot tear drop as he reached down.

But.

But his eyes went beyond the blond hair. To the sliver of Neville's profile, to Neville's hand, resting comfortably on the pajama clad chest of a dark-haired boy with a scar on his forehead.

Ron froze, knowing now that this had to be a dream.

Neville and Harry were curled together, sleeping peacefully. Neville's face rested against Harry's chest, and Harry's hand was circled under him and draped around his back.

Harry was smiling in his sleep. Neville's murmurs were low and contented. The way he'd sounded sleeping with Ron.

Ron couldn't breathe. He never had a chance to think about what he was looking at, because at the very sight his mind seemed to shut down. 

It was too much. Malfoy and LeStrange, and days and days of…and then appearing, and seeing…

Appearing. Apperating? 

Was that what he had done? 

He didn't know. All he knew was that he had to get away from them. Away from the two happily sleeping bodies on that bed.

He slammed his eyes shut and bit back a sob and thought hard of the first place that wasn't there – the Burrow. 

His room, all gaudy orange, Chudley Cannons everywhere. His room was safe and bright and happy, and he wanted to be there. Saw himself there. 

He felt a bit of a rush in his stomach that he hadn't noticed last time, and opened his eyes slowly.

Quidditch players lay sleeping on his walls, drifting on broomsticks in midair in his posters.

Ron stumbled, sobbing now out of sheer relief. 

Neville…

He was shaking so hard that the ropes kept tightening and loosening strangely, and his free hand twitched against his leg.

He moved forward, blinded by tears, and hit the door with a thump. He groped clumsily for the handle. 

Neville. Harry. 

Malfoy. LeStrange.

He couldn't think. Maybe he just didn't want to.

He opened his mouth and strained in a shout of frustration as his hand slipped off the knob again and again. Nothing came from his throat, but he shouted on and on, wetness dripping off his chin and into his mouth and down his nose. 

God, couldn't he just get…

There! He managed to turn the knob and the door opened, sending him stumbling out into the hallway.

There was a sudden noise down the narrow hall, and low voices. A creak as a door opened, sending a sliver of light into the hall that got wider. And then from the crack came the tip of a wand, pointing towards him.

He screamed despite himself, and tried to get away so fast that he lost his balance and fell.

"Who's there?" came a voice that was probably familiar.

He couldn't move. His mouth stayed open in another scream, silent and useless, and he shut his eyes and his hand was a fist and he squeezed his eyes shut and wanted everything to go away from him.

Hands touched his back and he jerked away in terror. The hands kept touching, pulling at the black ropes binding him, turning him over onto his back.

"Ron!"

"Oh my God! Fred!"

"Go get someone. Dumbledore. He's with mum, right?"

Two blurry faces looked at him, touched him.

Ron shook under their unrelenting hands, his mouth working uselessly. His vision was clouded, but he could focus enough to recognize the two identical faces in front of him, though they were pinched in a shocked and serious way he hadn't ever seen before.

"George! Go! Get Dumbledore or anybody! Go!"

The twin on his right stood and took off down the hall and pounded down the stairs.

Leaving only two hands on him, two eyes watching. 

Ron tried to gasp out Fred's name, but his teeth chattered and his chin shook and he couldn't make a sound.

Fred's eyes roamed all over him in fear before fastening on the rope his hands tugged on. It wouldn't give, of course. "Ron! Bloody hell, what's going on? How did you…are you alright?"

Ron would have been babbling if he'd been audible. As it was his mouth moved without any sort of intelligible response.

Fred reached out and sifted fingers through his hair carefully. "Ron. Calm down. You're home. You're safe. We'll get everyone over here, and we'll find out what's going on. Just tell me you're okay."

Ron shook his head helplessly, moving his lips in words that would never be heard.

Fred seemed to understand that he couldn't talk. He petted Ron's hair awkwardly. "It's okay. It's okay. George!" he shouted over his shoulder. "Hurry up!"

A faint shout answered him from downstairs. "No one's answering the fire! I'm apparating over!"

"Be careful!" Fred turned back to Ron. "Don't worry. Don't worry, Ronnie, I've got you. No one's gonna hurt you now, Ronnie." 

Ron nodded jerkily, shuddering.

Fred blinked strangely bright eyes and tugged at the rope again uselessly. "I'll get these off. Just let me…" Then he lifted his wand.

Ron saw the tip of the wand point towards him, and the feeble control he had vanished. He wailed in mute terror and tried to get away from it, scrambling back into the wall and curling there as tightly as he could.

He heard the clatter of a wand hitting the wood floor, and more low, reassuring words from his suddenly frantic brother, but he was too far gone to recognize any of it.

***

Author's Notes:

I hope that was easy enough to understand. Apparation is a hard thing to describe, especially happening to a character who has no idea what's going on.

Oh, and for any of you who think I did a deux ex machina getting him out of there like that, I can only say that the bad times aren't all over. LeStrange is still out there, and Lucius is none to pleased about his prey getting away. There's more to come. Mostly because this story just doesn't seem to want to reach any kind of ending. Go figure. J

Miste – Hey! Sorry to make you wait. I'll try and keep the updates closer together. You liked the picture, huh? Good. I figured Ron had to be an adorable kid. I don't have any plans to kill them off. Not both of them, at least. j/k  But the story is sort of writing itself. I've got no input. And hey, easy on the caffeine there, ya maniac. LOL.

Arynnl – Thanks! Glad you're still reading! You realize that if I give Ron good OWLS, it won't be a surprise to you, since you suggested it. LOL. I'll take it under advisement. 

PadawanMage – Still with me, huh? You're the best. Sure, Trelawney would have passed him, but Trelawney's not the one who gave the OWLs, they had those testing people come in. People who really knew what they were doing. Heh. And don't feel too bad for Ron. He did have a loving family and a decent life. His mother's just a wee bit guilty. You know how parents are. 

SparkySparkles – Thank you, darling. Unfortunately, as you can see, Dumbledore's plans will have to stay secret. Since they're a bit unnecessary. Fortunately, he'll have a chance to plan again. Evil ain't done yet.

Thanks for still reading, everyone. This thing is turning into an epic. Hope you don't mind. J 


	18. Bittersweet Reunions

Author's Note – It's too long a story to tell right now. Just know, dear and lovely readers, that I had no choice being away from you so long. I will update as regularly and quickly as I possibly can, and I'll get back to all of you soon. For those who emailed me personally, I'm seriously behind on reading my email. Tomorrow, darlings. I will answer you all tomorrow. 

But for now, so you know I'm still alive and kicking, here's a short offering. I've missed these guys (and you guys) a lot the last few weeks, and I'm really terribly sorry for leaving you like that. J 

***

The sudden thump on the door jerked Neville and Harry out of sleep at the same time, sending Harry grasping for his wand.

Neville sat bolt upright and reached for the lamp, before realizing it was already turned on.

The door flew open and a frantic face he barely recognized as one of the Weasley twins looked in on them. "Dammit!" the twin exclaimed before vanishing into the hall.

"Dumbledore! Mum! Dad! Help!" The twin moved away from the door, but his shouts were clear.

"Something's happened," Harry stated needlessly, and both of them jumped up and raced for the door.

Neville's heart was already pounding from being woken up so abruptly. He skidded into the hall on Harry's trail and saw other doors opening. 

Professor Dumbledore had been given, and reluctantly accepted, the master bedroom at the very end of the hall. His door opened, and he looked for all the world like he had been awake and dressed and waiting for just this moment. "Mr. Weasley. What is it?"

The twin wheeled and raced to him. "Professor! You have to come with me!"

"George?" The Weasley parents' door opened, and two rumpled, frightened faces peered out.

"Mum! Dad! It's Ron!"

They were out the door and by their son in a flash. "What about him? What's happened?"

George's eyes jerked from them to Dumbledore. "He's at the Burrow! He just showed up! He's really odd, and all tied up, and you've got to help him!"

Neville sank against the wall, his breath suddenly shallow and fast. "Ron?" he said weakly, but no one heard him.

"Let's go," Dumbledore said instantly, striding past them and towards Neville and the stairs and the outside. 

"Ron? What about Ron?" The girls' room was now open, and Ginny looked sick and pale. "Neville?"

But Neville couldn't answer. He just followed them on stumbling feet, praying hard. 

Harry was charging past the Weasley's to Dumbledore, making some demand Neville didn't hear through the ringing in his ears. 

"We'll apparate over." Dumbledore's answer was clear. "Let us check on the boy. We'll bring him back here straight away. The Burrow isn't safe enough."

Harry spoke again lowly.

Dumbledore just strode on. "Harry. You will stay here. We'll bring him, I promise."

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley strode past Harry, and the three followed George. Neville piled into the doorway with Harry and stood until the four had apparated away. 

And then there was the most horrible sort of wait Neville had ever imagined.

***

Fred heard the commotion downstairs and said a silent thank you. He was holding on to Ron tightly, and his brother was shaking like a leaf and scared out of his mind, so Fred didn't shout to them. He knew George would lead them up.

Sure enough, Dumbledore's bearded face appeared around the corner into the hall, followed by his mum and dad. 

Ron jerked under his arms, somehow even more tense. 

"Wait!" Fred tightened his grasp, holding his brother against his chest carefully. "He doesn't recognize anything." He could feel his own voice start to crack, and he cleared his throat. "He's a bit upset. And the ropes…I can't get the ropes off."

His dad's hand came up, wand at the ready.

"No!" Fred shouted the warning too late.

Ron bucked under him, fighting and straining and jerking to get away.

Fred did the only thing he could think of – he fastened one arm tight across Ron's chest, and moved the other up to seal his eyes shut, to keep him from seeing the wand. 

Ron fought hard, but Fred held him tight. "I'm sorry," he whispered to his brother, scared at Ron's behavior. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

Dumbledore acted fast, speaking a few words as he reached over and lowered their dad's wand out of sight. He wasn't a stupid man – he could see what had Ron panicking.

The ropes slid off of Ron and fell limply to the floor and Fred's lap.

Ron's arms fell loosely away from him, and his face creased in pain.

Dumbledore barked out another spell instantly.

Ron froze and then relaxed, every muscle suddenly going slack. When Fred lowered his hands from Ron's eyes they were shut.

The crowd at the end of the hall charged forward. Their mum reached Ron first, tears going down her face. "Oh, my boy. My poor boy. Professor…"

"He's under a sleeping spell. We should move him to Black's house before he has a chance to wake up."

"How did he get here? I don't understand." Dad sounded strange, his voice thin and worried.

With mum following, he and Dumbledore lifted Ron gently off of Fred, and carried him awkwardly down the hall. Ron was six feet of gangly dead weight.

George stayed behind to offer Fred a hand. "We're going."

"Of course we are." Fred took his hand and stood, and they followed the adults. "George, that was really scary." His voice was low and as solemn as it ever got.

George didn't smile or anything, though. He just nodded. "Someone hurt Ron," he answered darkly.

Fred exchanged grim looks with him, and they started down the steps without another word.

***

Ron heard the low murmur of voices before he woke enough to open his eyes.

He kept his eyes shut out of reflexes the last days had given him, an instinct that said if someone was there with him he didn't want them to know he was up.

But the murmurs grew clearer as sleep drifted out of his brain, and the voices grew familiar.

"—to know how he got to the Burrow. It seems absurd that they would just let him go. But for him to escape wherever they had him, and arrive unharmed at his home…"

"I'm afraid we'll have to wait and see. How much longer should he be asleep?" 

That last voice sounded like Remus Lupin, strangely.

The next voice was unmistakable, though. Dumbledore. "Not very long, I should think. He's already slept far longer than the spell guaranteed. He must have been tired. Poor child."

Ron remembered flashes. Lucius Malfoy, and then suddenly being at the Black House. 

Seeing Neville. Neville and Harry.

And then his brothers. The Burrow.

It hadn't been a dream. Unless he was dreaming still, which probably meant he wasn't dreaming at all, but completely insane.

At least it seemed to be the good sort of insanity.

He opened his eyes to see the side of Dumbledore's face as he spoke. "When he wakes up, I won't have you badgering him for details."

Ron's eyes flickered over and saw both Lupin and a rather cross-looking Mad-Eye Moody. He swallowed and licked his lips, and hoped that twenty-four hours had passed since he had drank the Quietus. "Professor?"

Dumbledore turned to him instantly, flashing a smile. "Ron, my boy! How are you feeling?"

Ron looked down at himself reflexively. He was tucked in bed – it looked like his very bed in his room – and the sheets were pulled up tight. But he could tell from the looseness around his arms that the magical ropes that had held him bound for days were gone. He felt a great deal of relief, and tried to sit up.

Lupin came forward to assist him, easing him up and then positioning his pillow so he could sit back. "Ron?"

Ron realized they were still waiting for an answer. He considered. "I feel alright," he said finally. His voice was rough. Hoarse. He cleared his throat, but the scratchiness didn't go away. "Really weak, though."

"Well then. There are a great many people out there waiting to see you. I expect it's alright to let them in, don't you?"

Ron tensed. Conflicting feelings instantly made his head spin. Neville. Neville was probably out there, waiting. And Harry. 

But his mind was full of the image of them sleeping together, curled up and happy. And he didn't know what that meant. Didn't know at all. But he did know that he wanted to see Neville more than anything. No matter what had happened while he was gone, it was thinking of Neville that got him through the last days. 

Days. He looked up at Dumbledore. "How long have I been gone?" he asked quietly.

"Ten days," Dumbledore answered solemnly. "But we can talk of that later. There are a lot of curious people wondering how you got back safely. It can wait, though." His eyes went to Moody, who looked as if he were about to object. 

Moody shut his mouth silently, grimacing.

Dumbledore sat on the bed and peered at Ron seriously. "Are you alright to see your family, my boy? They've been very worried."

Ron nodded slowly.

Dumbledore looked to Lupin, who instantly went to the door and cracked it open. "Let's not bombard him with everyone at once," Ron heard him saying.

Dumbledore stood as voices argued instantly from the other side of the door. He smiled down at Ron. "We'll get out of your way. I would like to speak to you, though, as soon as you feel ready."

Ron nodded, looking away from him down at the sheets pooled in his lap.

Dumbledore placed a friendly hand on Moody's shoulder and led him towards the door. They moved out past Lupin, who followed them. 

A moment later they were replaced by Ron's mum and dad.

His mum smiled at him with tears in her eyes, and sat down right where Dumbledore had been sitting. "Ron. Dear." Her voice was wavering, and she held her arms open.

Ron let her hug him, returning the embrace loosely. "Don't cry, mum."

She sniffed against his shoulder and laughed. "That's easy for you to say. Ron, we were so worried. I thought…oh, it doesn't matter. Are you alright? Honestly?" She pulled back and studied him. "Dumbledore said there was no need to send for a Healer, but…"

Ron bit back a laugh at that. No, no need at all. Fortunately for him the kind of curses he'd been subjected to didn't leave marks. 

He swallowed that response, though. His mum didn't need to know. "I'm alright. I'm really tired, but I feel like I've been sleeping forever."

It wasn't true. He felt as if he'd shut his eyes for barely five minutes. But he heard Dumbledore say he'd been sleeping a long time. He didn't want her to worry.

His dad sat down on the other side of the bed. He clapped a hand on Ron's shoulder, his eyes bright. "You've got no idea how glad we are to see you."

Ron smiled weakly. "I bet I do."

His mum hugged him again suddenly. "My baby. Can I…are you hungry? You've slept through the last three meals, poor thing."

He shuddered at the idea of food. 

His mum looked instantly concerned as she felt him shiver.

He spoke quickly to distract her. "Maybe some tea? Might wake me up a bit."

She stood quickly. "Of course. Poor boy. Tea with honey? Just like I always make when you're under the weather."

His dad stood as well. "Remus says we aren't to crowd you, so we've got to give everyone else a chance to come in and say hullo. We'll be back, son. We'll…" He sniffled, still smiling. "We'll bring you tea." He reached out and smoothed Ron's hair down gently.

Ron nodded. "Alright, dad."

They went to the door, and each looked back at him one last long moment before they left. 

The moment they were out the door a smaller figure burst in and ran right for the bed. "Oh, God, Ron!"

Ron was swept into a tight embrace. His eyes slammed shut at the overwhelming relief of it.

Neville was shaking against him, overcome. "Ron. Ron. We were so…I was…Ron!"  
Ron held him tightly, his eyes welling with tears. He reached up and ran fingers through familiar dark blond hair. 

Neville squeezed him close, then after a few moments pulled back and flashed a smile, wiping tears from his cheeks. 

Ron's heart seemed to stutter in his chest. His breath caught. "Neville…"

Neville searched him all over, smiling inanely. "You…I was so scared you were…"

"I'm alright," Ron said quietly.

His mind flashed an image of Neville and Harry. 

He cast it away with some force. He didn't care. Whatever had happened, Neville wasn't any different. He still cared. 

Even if Neville had found, while Ron was gone, someone more deserving to be by his side, he wouldn't stop caring about Ron. 

Which at that moment was all Ron cared about. "I'm sorry."

Neville froze, his eyes driving into Ron's suddenly. "What?"

"For whatever you thought. You were upset, and it was…"

"Ron." Neville shook his head, looking appalled. "No. No, please. Don't. My fault. Everything was…"

"No!" Ron sniffed and reached out, and wondered if he still had any claim to touch Neville.

Neville leaned in, his eyes shutting as Ron's hand found his cheek. He shivered again and his head bowed. "Oh, Ron. I was so scared."

Ron pulled him in close again and bit back an answer. He wasn't sure what to say. He had been scared himself.

He was still scared. Of something completely different, but he was still scared.

He held Neville to him and breathed in the familiar scent of him, and told himself to be content with what he had.

***

"You understand there's going to be a lot of questions."

Ron nodded.

Dumbledore looked sympathetic. "It can't be helped. It can be delayed, fortunately, and since there aren't any lives being endangered at the moment, I'm sure I can keep Moody off of you for a while yet. But there are a few details I'd like now, to settle my own curiosity."

Neville's hand was on his, and Harry sat close on his other side, and their silent support helped Ron to nod his agreement. "What do you want to know?"

"It was Bellatrix LeStrange that kidnapped you?"

Ron nodded. "She…I'm sure you already know. She thought…"

"She thought you were me," Neville said quietly beside him.

Ron squeezed his hand. "She's completely mad, Professor."

"She didn't take you to Voldemort. We didn't find traces of him on you."

Ron flinched at the name, even deeper than he usually did. "No. She didn't want me for him. She wanted Neville just for herself. You-Know-Who didn't even know."

"But there were traces of another wand."

Ron nodded, his eyes dropping. His hands were shaking, but the one was held tightly in Neville's grip, and as he watched, Harry's smaller hand reached out and took his other. "Malfoy."

"Lucius Malfoy?" His dad now, sounding barely controlled.

He nodded. "Just the last day. After I…" He shrugged. Details. Dumbledore said they could wait.

There was a pause, and then Dumbledore spoke again. "Now, the one thing we're all wondering. How did you escape?"

Ron shrugged. "I think…I think I apparated."

"What?" Moody's sharp voice.

Ron swallowed and looked up at the sea of staring faces. "I was… Malfoy was…and I shut my eyes and thought about my room, and saw it in my head, and wanted to be there. And then I opened my eyes and I was there." 

"That's all there was to it?" Moody sounded dubious.

Ron nodded. No one had to know he had stopped here first. Never. "I don't know how I did it."

Dumbledore spoke thoughtfully. "It's not unusual for magic to manifest itself in times of need, even if the witch or wizard doesn't consciously know how to create that sort of magic."

"Like when I set the python on Dudley before I even heard of Hogwarts," Harry spoke at Ron's side.

Dumbledore nodded. "Apparating is usually not one of those spells. It's difficult to learn, and nearly impossible to do without being educated about it. But not impossible entirely. Given the stress you were under I'd say it's very possible you apparated."

"There's also the fact that nothing else makes any sense. LeStrange and especially Malfoy wouldn't simply let him go, and it would have been nearly impossible for him to have made it by himself, tied as he was." Lupin spoke thoughtfully, his eyes on Ron. 

"I wouldn't recommend you trying it again, of course." Dumbledore smiled.

Ron sat back. "Is that…is there anything else you have to know right now?"

Dumbledore glanced at Lupin and Moody. "Nothing that can't wait until you've rested longer. We know who was responsible, and I'm sure you've got no better idea than we do where those people are right now. You just get some rest, Ron, and we'll be by in the morning to speak to you again."

Ron nodded silently. 

Dumbledore left the foot of his bed, followed by Moody. Lupin stayed long enough to squeeze Harry's shoulder, then followed them out. 

The foot of the bed was immediately filled with Hermione and Ginny. They sat and smiled at him with watery eyes and silence filled the room awkwardly. 

"Are you getting tired at all?" Ron's mum asked quietly from her seat beside the bed.

Ron felt grateful for the excuse. "Actually, yeah."

His mum and dad stood up instantly. "Alright, kids. Let's let Ron get some rest. Everybody out."

Neville smiled faintly. "This is my room."

Ron's mum smiled at him affectionately. "Well, Neville, dear, if you promise not to exhaust the poor boy…Ron? You don't mind if Neville stays, do you?"

Ron shook his head silently, sending Neville a smile, feeling inexplicably shy.

Neville smiled back and looked down at the covers of the bed. 

Hermione and Ginny stood up slowly. Ginny sniffled and grinned at Ron and sort of hit him on his sheet-covered foot. "You'll be alright tomorrow, and then we can talk."

Hermione wiped at runny eyes. "Ron. You…you just get some rest." She held out a hand.

He took it and squeezed it lightly. "I will."

Harry stood more slowly as the others filed out. "Ron."

Ron hesitated before looking at him. "Harry…I…"

Harry just shook his head. He lay a hand on Ron's shoulder and met his eyes. "We're going to talk, you and me. Okay? Soon?"

Ron bit his lip pensively. What was…?

Harry squeezed his shoulder. "Just give me a chance to apologize."

Apologize? Ron frowned at him, but nodded. "I don't…"

"We'll talk about it later." Harry looked past Ron at Neville, and flashed a strange, almost secret smile.

Ron's heart lurched, but he sat back and worked to keep his face blank.

Finally everyone was gone. Neville shifted until he was perched in front of Ron, facing him. "Do you…need anything?"

Ron shook his head, sitting back with a frown. "Ten days. Dumbledore said…"

Neville nodded. He reached out and let his hand rest on Ron's stomach. "Seemed like longer to me. Ron, it was awful."

Ron looked down at Neville's hand and couldn't answer.

Neville laughed weakly. "I should shut up, I know. It had to be horrid for you, much worse than for me. I just missed you."

"I missed you, too," Ron said quietly. His hand slid up and over Neville's, resting there comfortably. "It wasn't so bad for me, though. I'm okay. Really."

Neville met his eyes. 

Ron smiled, though he didn't really feel like it. 

Neville returned the smile after a minute. "Well. You've missed out on a few things. I could tell you all about what's happened here, if you like. And if you're tired, you can just go to sleep while I'm talking. I won't be upset or anything."

Ron laughed quietly. He had missed that look in Neville's eyes. He had spent the last ten days being glared at as if he was trash, or laughed at like he was a toy.

He missed this, the quiet concern and care. He missed being looked at like he was special.

Whatever went on with Harry and Neville, whatever would happen once he was feeling better and they weren't all tiptoeing around him, at least he had this. For as long or as short as it lasted, he had it now.

Though if it left him for good…he wasn't sure how he'd react.

He lay back with a sigh and closed heavy eyes, and Neville's quiet voice sounded in his ear, speaking words he couldn't focus on.

He opened his eyes after a minute and interrupted quietly. "Neville?"

"What do you need? Anything at all, I'll do for you." Neville leaned in to him earnestly.

Ron hesitated. "Could you…can I have a kiss?"

Neville moved back a few inches, studying him hesitantly.

Ron's heart gave a painful thump. He didn't miss the reluctance. "I know…I mean. Just one. Please?"

Neville's face softened instantly and he leaned in, smiling. "Anything you want," he said softly before coming in for a soft kiss.

Ron closed his eyes and tried to memorize the feel of Neville's lips on his, just in case. Neville's hand appeared on his hair, sifting down. A thumb brushed lightly over Ron's cheek.

Ron's breathing was a bit more labored when Neville pulled back, and he kept his eyes shut so Neville wouldn't see the tears forming. "Thank you," he said after a moment.

He felt movement as Neville stood suddenly. "I…I should go. I should let you get some rest."

Ron's eyes opened at that uncontrollably, and sure enough Neville's back was turned and he was walking out. Quickly.

He could actually feel the exact moment when his heart cracked in half, and he lay there silently for a long time, shuddering and fighting back tears.

He was alone again.


End file.
